


Something of the Wolf

by Pellaaearien



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bad Wolf Rose Tyler, Episode Fix-It: s02e13 Doomsday, Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pellaaearien/pseuds/Pellaaearien
Summary: Rose was able to hold onto her lever just that little bit longer and she and the Doctor walked away from Canary Wharf together. But it wasn't just coincidence that they beat the storm, as the Doctor and Rose are soon to discover. There may be a bit more than just something of the Wolf about Rose Tyler...





	1. Chapter 1

“I want to go through the flat.”

Rose’s pronouncement, delivered over breakfast the morning after Canary Wharf, prompted an instant of stunned silence from the Doctor. He had been expecting an entreaty for a relaxing spa planet or a quiet day in, not a determined set of the chin and a firm demand. He swallowed, buying time to respond.

“Rose, are you sure?” As Rose’s gaze took on a steely glint, he quickly backpedaled. “I mean, we live in a time machine. You don’t have to do this right away, you could take some time…”

Fortunately, Rose didn’t seem offended by his suggestion. She sighed, and her demeanour softened slightly.

“I know, but I want to do it now,” she said, picking at her granola. “It’s just… all that belongs to my old life,” she said, putting down her spoon as she gave up all attempts to feign appetite. “I don’t want to have it hanging over my head for any longer than it needs to.” She fixed him with a frank look. “I wanna move forward, with you, Doctor.”

The Doctor found himself once again humbled by Rose’s love and devotion. He’d all but destroyed her family the day before, inadvertently forcing her to choose between himself and her mother. After their initial rush of passion and relief had burnt itself out, once the Doctor had taken care of her various injuries, Rose had cried herself to sleep in his arms, the full consequences of the day crashing down on her all at once.

For all that she’d so strongly advocated that her mother go to the other world with Pete, it didn’t make their separation any easier to bear, and the Doctor knew that. He’d assumed that she might withdraw a bit, take some time to adjust to her new circumstances before she could be her old self around him. He wondered if there would ever come a time when Rose Tyler would stop surprising him.

“It’s your decision, Rose,” he said at last, meaning every word. He’d learned his lesson after his aborted attempt to send Rose to Pete’s World against her will. She smiled at him; a small smile, but the Doctor counted it a triumph nonetheless.

“Thank-you, Doctor,” she said, rising and beginning to clear away the remnants of their meal. At the sink, she hesitated, biting her lip as she looked back at him. “Could you… I mean, would you mind…”

The Doctor’s hearts twisted. “Of course I’ll help you, Rose,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to ask.” Reassured, she turned back to the dishes and he grabbed a towel, watching the movements of her hands within the suds as she methodically cleaned their plates.

Was it possible that she was unaware that there was absolutely nothing in the universe that he would deny her, if it was within his power to grant (including a number of things that weren’t, if he were being completely honest) even before she essentially renounced her family in order to stay with him? Half of him was of the opinion that this was a situation that should be rectified immediately and the other half lived in terror of the day Rose figured it out. Still, he felt Rose deserved a tangible symbol of how much she meant to him, and he set the idea to percolate in his brain as they made their way to the console room.

~oOo~

The Doctor parked the TARDIS in a hidden, out of the way spot beneath the stairs leading to Rose’s flat. He could have landed directly inside the flat, of course, but he wanted to give Rose the experience of actually entering her flat, the way it used to be, one last time, and Rose agreed that landing so close to the building would be the best way to avoid any unwanted attention.

She hesitated only once, slightly, at the TARDIS door. She wanted to do this, to get it over with, and having the Doctor at her side made it all that much easier. Still, the prospect was a daunting one, and Rose was heartened by his support and understanding.

They climbed the steps to the flat, Rose trying not to think of the last time they’d done this and failing spectacularly. She fumbled with her key as they reached the landing, despite having it out already, but as she grabbed the handle to unlock the door, it swung open slightly under the pressure. Rose and the Doctor both stiffened, looking at each other in shock. It wasn’t at all like Jackie to leave the door unlocked, even for a minute.

An aura of deadly calm settled over the Doctor and he gestured at Rose to stick close behind him as he stole into the flat. The power of the Oncoming Storm had stirred in his eyes and Rose felt, as she always did, that by his side was the safest place in the universe to be. Whatever was waiting for them in the flat, they would be able to face it together.

Then the Doctor stopped again, just inside the door. Rose’s ears were straining for any sound, so the Doctor’s sharp exhale of breath nearly made her jump.

“I know you’re here, Jack,” he said, and Rose felt her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline. “You might as well come out and say hello.”

A beat, and then Jack Harkness came strolling out of the back of the flat, anger sparking in his eyes that quickly gave way to astonishment as he spotted her.

“ _Rose?_ ”

She couldn’t have said in that moment which of them was more surprised to see the other, and just as quickly decided it didn’t matter.

“Jack!” With a cry of his name, she threw herself into his arms, only to be nearly lifted off her feet by the fierceness of his embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting a few tears leak out - she’d been so certain she’d never see him again, finding him like this seemed like a dream.

“God, Rosie, am I glad to see you,” Jack murmured into her hair. “After I heard what happened at Canary Wharf I wasn’t sure…”

“We made it,” Rose said firmly, still feeling the twin jolts of fear and relief buffet her at the words. “We sent the Daleks and Cybermen into the Void, and my mum… she went through to a parallel world to live with a parallel version of my dad. It’s a long story.”

Jack set her down and she looked up to meet his eyes, relearning his face as he did hers, and asked the most pressing question.

“What are you doing here, Jack?” The Doctor inhaled sharply behind her, and Jack winced. “I thought you were supposed to be in the future, rebuilding the Earth?”

“That’s…” Jack sighed. “It’s a long story.” He shot her a commiserating expression as he parroted her words back to her. “Could we… is it all right if we sit down?” he asked. “This’ll take a while.”

“Course.” Rose indicated the living room with a nod, looking back to the Doctor, who was still standing in the same spot, his fists clenched white. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but the expression on his face stopped her. “I’ll… um, I’ll make us some tea, shall I?”

“Great idea, thanks Rosie,” Jack said, putting on a show of making himself comfortable on the sofa in deliberate contrast to the Doctor’s obvious discomfort, and Rose fought the urge to roll her eyes. They’d mostly gotten past the two men’s testosterone-fueled posturing contests towards the end of the days of Team TARDIS and Rose had forgotten how frustrating they could be. Washing her hands of the matter and leaving them to hash it out amongst themselves, she went to the kitchen and went through the motions of making tea, nevertheless grateful for the distraction the two of them provided keeping her from thinking about endless moments with her mother in this kitchen.

When she emerged later with three cups of tea, very little had changed, and Rose sighed, knowing that the Doctor would eventually be coaxed out of his reluctance but unwilling to wait for her answers. Passing Jack his mug and setting the Doctor’s on the edge of the coffee table furthest from Jack, she settled back next to her former best mate with her own cup, taking a fortifying sip before she spoke.

“Jack,” she began, and watched as something heavy settled in his eyes. “What the hell happened to you?”

The man let out a long sigh, twisting so that only one of his arms was stretched along the back of the sofa. “How much has he told you?” His tone made it clear what he was expecting, and Rose nodded in response.

“Not much,” she confirmed. The Doctor showed signs of wanting to speak, and Jack held up a hand.

“Not just now, Doc, I want to hear what Rosie has to say.” Reluctantly, the Doctor subsided, and Jack nodded encouragingly at her. “Go on, Rosie.”

Rose frowned, trying to think back. Even now, it was difficult to remember the events surrounding the Game Station. She could picture Kyoto vividly, but after that everything started to take on a kind of dreamlike quality, not helped by the bizarre reality that had been the Anne Droid game show. She knew the Doctor had changed in the TARDIS, that they’d talked, but if she was being honest it wasn’t even really until they’d been under attack by the Christmas tree that her memories started to become solid again. She supposed there was something to be said for how that focussed the mind.

“Um...” she hedged. More things were coming into focus the more she thought about it. It was like they’d been waiting for her to make a concerted effort to retrieve them, and had been keeping themselves quiet and inaccessible otherwise. “The Daleks were attacking, you went to hold them off…” _Said goodbye_ , her brain supplied, but she ignored the ripple of pain the words brought. Jack nodded without speaking. “He sent me away,” she continued in an accusing tone - she remembered that part fairly well. “‘S all kind of a blur, after that. I just remember thinking I had to get back, somehow. Nothing in the universe mattered more than getting back.”

The Doctor made an involuntary sound. She barely heard him, focussed inward. “Mickey… he told me later that we got a truck, tried to open the console, like Margaret, remember?” Jack nodded again, his eyes never leaving her face. “After that it’s all been wiped from my head. I can’t remember any of it.” Even now, while she was speaking, the memories she wasn’t looking at directly were slipping away, like trying to catch fish with her bare hands.

She shook her head slightly, giving up, and fixed her friend with a frank stare. “I asked after you, Jack. I promise, I did ask. But all he would say was that you were staying in the future, rebuilding the Earth. I thought maybe you’d had it out, because there was always something else we had to do, any time I brought it up. Everything was so fuzzy around that time, I couldn’t even recall if we’d said goodbye.” Jack’s face twisted, but he remained silent. “And I thought maybe we _couldn’t_ go back, like it had something to do with my memories staying locked - course, not that I was actually told any of this,” she said pointedly. “And, eventually, I just stopped asking.” Tears started in her eyes as she looked up at her friend. “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry. I should’ve pushed harder, I should’ve…”

“Hey now, Rosie, hush,” he crooned, folding her back into his arms. “It’s not your fault, none of it. But it sounds like someone’s got some explaining to do.” He looked at the Doctor, who had his arms crossed protectively over his chest. “She gives you way too much credit, you know,” he said conversationally. “Coming up with those clever theories all on her own, when the real reason was…” He paused deliberately. “Wait. What was the reason, Doctor? Because I think both of us have a right to know.”

“You’re right.” The Doctor spoke at last, cutting Jack off, coming around to crouch in front of Rose, taking her hands.

“It’s time, Rose,” he said simply. “I’m sorry I kept this from you, more sorry than I can possibly say. I was just so _scared_. When I took the Vortex out of you, it erased the most salient memories, but I went in a little after Christmas to make sure you’d be safe, that there were no threads loose. You consented, of course,” he said hurriedly, even though Rose hadn’t even begun to consider that aspect yet, “but I had to take away even your memory of giving consent in case it triggered something.”

Even as he spoke, a memory surfaced, of the two of them speaking, though it sounded like they were underwater; the Doctor giving her a clinical rundown of what he hoped to achieve in her mind - _please, let me make sure you’re safe_ \- and her, wanting to prove that she trusted this new, new Doctor, as well as take some paracetamol for her pounding headache and sleep for a week. “Wait a minute,” she said. “And again after Cassandra, right?” The Doctor nodded, eyes wide.

“I did another quick check, just after New Earth. I wanted to make sure nothing had shifted, after the psychograft.” He looked unaccountably nervous, and Rose was anxious to reassure him, on this point at least.

“Doctor, it’s all right. I trust you, in my head, no one better. I know you wouldn’t ask unless it was absolutely necessary - and I know you always ask.” The Doctor relaxed slightly, but Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Hang on. You took the Vortex out of _me_?”

It hit her like something she’d always known, and yet also like the first time she’d heard it. All the Doctor had told her was that he’d had to die to save her life, that he’d needed to absorb the Time Vortex. He’d been a bit vague on the details, and Rose hadn’t pressed, feeling guilty enough as it was.

“Yes, Rose,” the Doctor replied quietly. “It happened just like you said. You used a truck to open the console and look into the Heart of the TARDIS.” He was still watching her intently, like he expected her to explode at any second. Rose shook her head. She felt perfectly fine, just confused.

“But when Margaret did that, she regressed into an egg,” she said. “So why didn’t I-?”

“Because the TARDIS wasn’t trying to defend herself, this time,” the Doctor explained. “You and the TARDIS merged, because you wanted to…”

“To keep you safe,” Rose said, her voice sounding far away, even to her own ears. “My Doctor.”

The Doctor’s eyes snapped to hers, wide and a little awed, and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes,” he said simply.

There was a beat of silence as they stared at each other. When nothing happened, Jack cleared his throat, and the Doctor shook himself slightly before continuing on.

“But no lifeform - human, Time Lord, Slitheen or otherwise - can live with that much raw Time energy running through them. So I took the energy from you, gave it back to the TARDIS. Then I regenerated.”

Rose frowned, pushing back the old guilt. “But what does all this have to do with Jack?” she asked. She looked at her friend. “You asked what I remember.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I died, Rosie,” he said, before the Doctor could speak. “I was facing three Daleks. Death by extermination. And then I came back to life.”

Rose gasped, putting her hands over her mouth, before saying around them, “Wh-What does that have to do with me?”

“You brought him back, Rose,” the Doctor said gently, as Rose turned back to face him. “You could manipulate all of time, and space, and matter, and you brought him back to life. Only, you couldn’t control it. You brought him back forever.” He paused. “The final act of the Time War was life.”

“I bring life,” Rose intoned, and the Doctor repressed a shiver. Shaking his head to clear it of cobwebs, he looked at Rose, who was staring at him, mouth slack, clearly trying to process everything she was hearing, and then to Jack.

“Do you… I mean, have you…?”

“Have I realised I can’t die?” Jack finished for him, allowing bitterness to seep into his tone. “Yeah, I picked up on that one pretty much right away. After waking up ankle-deep in Dalek dust, there weren’t too many other conclusions to draw, you know? But I was given plenty of other evidence, just to drive the point home. Ellis Island, 1892. Got in a fight, a man shot me through the heart. Then I woke up. Thought it was kind of strange, but then it never stopped.” He reined himself in with obvious difficulty, glancing over at Rose who was staring at him, her eyes like saucers, then fixing the Doctor with a steely look. “And all that time, you knew.”

“I didn’t _know_ ,” the Doctor protested, rising slowly to sit down across from the pair, needing a little distance from the conversation. He picked up his slightly cooled tea, taking a sip as he tried to recover his bearings. “Not really. It was all speculation until you just confirmed it for me.”

“If you’d stuck around, we might have figured it out together,” Jack returned, his voice becoming more strident. “Instead of leaving me stranded in the year two hundred one hundred.”

“We-” Rose had to try again, her voice breathless with stunned surprise and outrage. “We left him behind? Doctor!” Despite everything, the Doctor didn’t fail to note her automatic use of ‘we’ with equal parts warmth and chagrin, given that she bore no part of the blame for his actions.

“I ran away,” the Doctor said, placing subtle emphasis on the _I_. “I was regenerating. I had to leave you behind, it was too much.” He looked at Jack frankly. “Even now, it’s not easy just looking at you, Jack, because you’re wrong.”

“Thanks,” Jack scoffed.

“I mean it,” the Doctor said, as he felt the tea sitting ever so slightly uneasy in his stomach. “I can’t help it. I’m a Time Lord. It’s instinct. You’re a fixed point, a living fixed point, in time and space. You’re a fact. That’s never supposed to happen.”

“Can I undo it?” Rose asked abruptly, looking to be on the point of tears. The Doctor didn’t miss the hope in Jack’s eyes and he regretfully shook his head.

“I took the power out of you, Rose. It’s completely gone. I’m sorry, Jack.”

Rose turned desperately to Jack. “Jack, I-”

“Don’t apologise, Rosie,” the former conman said, his voice rough with emotion. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it,” he repeated firmly. “You came back with all of time and space in your head to save your Doctor, and you still managed to spare a thought for me. You wanted the universe to always have me in it. How could I blame you for that?” They shared an emotional embrace.

The Doctor shifted guiltily. Clearly, Rose had missed Jack more than she’d let on, and it looked like the feeling was mutual. He’d known leaving Jack behind was wrong, but the decision had been made in a split second and afterwards it was easier not to look back. And his new body had been so enamoured with Rose, so intoxicated by her very presence, he often forgot there was a world outside the two of them. Not that it was any excuse. It was true, Rose had frequently asked after Jack, especially in the early days, and he had fallen into his old patterns of evasion so easily, it was despicable.

He was pulled from these thoughts when Rose spoke again.

“So, what are you doing here, Jack?” she asked in a much lighter tone.

“Well after finding out I was stuck in the year two hundred one hundred, I started thinking about how to track down the Doctor. I thought, England, 21st century, best chance to run into him, only it went a bit wrong. Ended up in 1869 with a burnt-out Vortex manipulator. I had to live through the entire 20th century. Kept my ears and eyes peeled the entire time, but I never found anything. When I heard what had happened at Canary Wharf, I figured you’d be involved, so here I am.”

Rose listened to the whole story, sipping her tea pensively. “Yeah, I meant here in the flat, Jack,” she said, when he was finished. “You broke in, didn’t you?”

The former Time Agent looked slightly sheepish. “I did, but only because… well, I knew no one was in, and with what happened around Torchwood Tower there was no way of knowing who knew what and whether or not they’d come sniffing around. I was hoping I’d find you here, of course, but I wanted to get the lay of the land, just in case. And, yes, I was also hoping to run into the Doctor, or at least find some clues. I already had this.” He reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out a large glass jar.

“Oh my God,” Rose muttered, sounding equal parts fascinated and repulsed. “Is that…?”

“That’s my hand!” the Doctor exclaimed, snatching it from Jack’s grasp. “Give me that!”

“The one you lost at Christmas?” Rose asked, shrinking back slightly.

“That’s the one!” the Doctor sounded almost giddy. “I love my hand. And I’ll dispose of it properly now, this sort of thing shouldn’t be left hanging around,” he said more pointedly, but Jack rolled his eyes.

“Good thing I found it then, isn’t it?” he retorted. “I’ve been using it as a Doctor detector.”

“Hang on,” Rose said as a thought occurred to her. “How comes you knew he was the Doctor? He’s regenerated, and we left the TARDIS downstairs.”

“Oh, so that is the term,” Jack replied, looking surprised. “Well the Time Agency had all sorts of legends about the Time Lords. Sort of inevitable when you work in the same area, I suppose. Anyway, one was about how they were able to change their appearance to cheat death. Just now, I felt the hand going wild and I heard the TARDIS engines. Wasn’t too hard to put together.” He shrugged. “Plus, you called him Doctor, and that’s all the proof I needed, Rosie.”

She felt her cheeks warm slightly, which Jack noted with a nod and a wink.

“So how long’s it been since this one finally came to his senses?” he asked.

“Oi!” the Doctor protested, actually not at all opposed to moving the conversation along, and Rose merely giggled.

“Hey, I had a vested interest in getting you two knuckleheads together, I deserve to know how it went down,” Jack said.

“What makes you think anything’s changed?” the Doctor asked, more curious than anything, given that they’d been remarkably circumspect since entering the flat. Jack levelled him with a look.

“Please. Give me a bit more credit than that. Like I said, this used to be my area of specialisation.”

“Oh come off it…” the Doctor cajoled, but Rose grinned her tongue touched grin.

“Well, you see, it was after we beat the Devil…”

Jack arched his eyebrows. “Wait. You mean, like, the proper Devil, not just a life form impersonating him, or something?” Rose gave a noncommittal shrug and Jack settled more comfortably on the sofa. “Now this I gotta hear.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left comments saying they couldn't wait to read more! I decided not to make you wait, even though I don't usually update this quickly! I wanted to post this to round out Bad Wolf month and because I really liked this chapter and couldn't wait to share it with you. Hope you enjoy!

_ “And the Valiant Child who shall die in battle, so very soon.” _

The Doctor ran along an endless white corridor, hand outstretched.

_ “Rose!” _

His cries sounded like they came from underwater; the walls, floor, and ceiling were featureless and blinding bright. Rose was ahead of him, always just out of reach even though he was running flat out, breath burning in his chest. He was forced to watch as Rose, faceless and blank, died over and over. Rose, blown to bits, burnt to ash, encased in a screaming Cyber-body, lying broken at the feet of the Devil. Rose, disappearing into the Void.

He screamed his voice hoarse and then screamed some more, even though he knew that it wouldn’t help him run any faster. But if he was never going to catch up to Rose then he might as well allow himself the release. 

“ _ No! Rose, hold on! Stay with me, love! Please!” _

The dream changed. He was still running to catch up with Rose, but this time Rose was running from him. Running from the TARDIS, never travelling with him. Staying in the parallel world. Leaving him to stay with Jackie. Placing the dimension hopper over her neck and pressing the button herself.

_ “Stay with me!” _ The Doctor sobbed. It wasn’t his right; he’d always known he wasn’t worth her forever and it seemed Rose had finally realised it as well. He could hardly blame her for that, and yet he kept after her, unable to accept the decision he’d been waiting for her to make ever since she’d stepped into the TARDIS. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it any longer, there was suddenly a door in the wall to his right where none had been before. It was propped slightly ajar, and golden light was streaming out of it. The Doctor had a split second decision to make, and he ducked through the door after a moment’s hesitation. He found himself surrounded by warmth and acceptance and love that was such a change from his fear and anguish of a moment before he couldn’t take it all in and was startled into wakefulness with the quiet repetition of “ _ My Doctor.” _

 

“Doctor!  _ Doctor! _ ” Rose was shaking him, as gently as she was able, but with growing concern when she wasn’t able to wake him just by calling his name, which was usually sufficient. She’d been asleep, but his terrors had been unusually vocal and had woken her. Her heart ached for him. Rose knew the Doctor slept less even than he needed to because of what waited for him in the dark, though she fancied that her presence had helped, some. His nightmares had been given more fodder as of late, however; they both had, but Rose guessed it was his turn now. 

The Doctor’s eyes shot open wildly, and Rose backed off slightly, watching his gaze flick around the room like a trapped animal. He’d obviously been putting off sleep for longer than Rose thought, if he’d been so deeply under.

After catching up with Jack, her friend had offered to help her pack up the flat, and the task had been completed much more quickly with the extra hands. Not that it had been a painless process by any means, but she’d managed to keep it together with the help of both men and had exchanged mobile numbers with Jack as they parted, promising to keep in touch. 

That night, she and the Doctor had marathoned cartoons in the media room while bingeing on all of Rose’s favourite snacks. She’d been grateful to the Doctor for giving them time to rest and recuperate after their traumatic experience, but now she realised that he hadn’t been doing so himself.

“Doctor?” she said again, more quietly, and the Doctor’s eyes locked on her with burning intensity. “Doctor, I’m here,” she reassured him, having a pretty good idea of what his nightmares might have entailed, since she’d experienced the same. 

_ “Rose.”  _ She couldn’t parse the myriad emotions bound in the way the Doctor spoke her name; indeed there were some for which she suspected she didn’t have a word. Rose went willingly into the Doctor’s rough embrace, trying to soothe him as best she could. 

“I’m still here, I promise, always here with you.” 

“Stay with me, Rose,” the Doctor whispered, sounding as though he couldn’t hear her. “At least for a little while? Please.” The uncertainty in his request brought a lump to her throat. 

“Doctor, it’s the middle of the night, I’m not going anywhere, yeah? Not for a good long while. I promised you forever, Doctor. I promised you forever, and we did it, we beat the storm, we’re still together.”

Gradually, the Doctor’s breathing calmed, but too slowly for Rose. She pressed her forehead to his, having learned early on that even without telepathy, the familiar gesture comforted him. 

This time, however, the Doctor jerked back slightly, like her touch had burned him. 

“Doctor? What’s wrong?” Rose was very concerned by her Doctor’s strange behaviour. 

“Everything,” the Doctor breathed. “No, maybe… nothing.”

Rose gripped his shoulders. “You’re not making any sense, Doctor,” she said, a little more sharply now. “Which is it? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Rose, I-” There was a strange, almost eager light in the Doctor’s eyes. “I might be able to show you.” 

The significance he placed on the words left little doubt what he was talking about. 

“How d’you mean, Doctor?” His abrupt mood shift had left her bewildered and unsure of what was happening. “That’s impossible. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, it ought to be.” He’d never sounded so excited about that fact. “And yet I’m fairly certain I just felt you telepathically.” A hint of a smile graced his face as he monitored her reaction carefully. “Could I… Would you allow me to go in and check?” She could tell he was holding himself back with difficulty. 

Rose took the Doctor’s hands from where they rested (well, more clenched) at her waist and raised them to her temples. Her acceptance was clear, and the Doctor sucked in a breath. 

“Well? Go on, then, Doctor,” she said, smiling at him. Even if she hadn’t been completely willing, his obvious eagerness would have convinced her. She knew her initial reaction to telepathy had scared him off even mentioning it around her, which she thought was a shame. It was the surprise of the sudden revelation, in addition to the meddling, that had been her main concern. And now that she’d learned that the Doctor had been in her head twice and she didn’t even remember it, she found herself intensely curious as to what it would feel like. 

The Doctor’s fingers trembled on her temples as she gave her explicit permission and he held her eyes for a long moment before he closed his, and she followed his lead. Almost immediately, she felt a slight pressure at both her temples, like the Doctor was pressing harder against them, but he wasn’t. It almost felt like knocking, and so Rose imagined opening a door. 

Even as she did so, the most unique sensation suffused her mind. It was not unlike the feeling she got when eating fizz wiz, except inside her brain, traversing passages and connections that she hadn’t even known were there, like rainwater bringing to life a dried-up stream. She was so caught up in the novelty of it that it took her a while to even parse what she was feeling. 

Once she began to analyse the visitation, she discovered she would have known it anywhere for the Doctor, even if he wasn’t the only person in the room with her. It was easy to distinguish the foreign emotions from her own, as they were simply so much… stronger, for lack of a better descriptor, which, although it was true, wasn’t quite accurate. Although the initial sense she received was simply of power, she also knew that he was holding himself back; she could feel it, trying to push through, like she was a submarine and he was the ocean’s surrounding depths. 

She remembered from her French lessons that people who spoke different languages thought in different ways and experienced things through different cultural filters, and she supposed an alien would be the same, only more so. She could put a name to most of the feelings she was picking up, like curiosity or excitement, but they all had a slightly different tone to them that made her hesitate to call them such. Or maybe that was because they were all shot through with something so much bigger and more intense that she could tell was spilling through from the part of himself that he was holding back.

She also experienced a colour for which she had no name, which was odd since she knew her eyes were closed, but it was so beautiful she wasn’t about to waste time trying to figure it out; a shimmery platinum-blue tone that matched the feeling running through her head completely. 

Overall, Rose felt as though she’d just welcomed a sparkly, inquisitive otter into her head, or would do, except for the deeper emotions that lurked beyond the barrier that she could still feel, like an after-image. She found herself reminded of the way she felt when she was looking at exhibits in a museum: reverence for the age and history that had brought it to where it was, the inherent beauty and vast weight of experience that came with being such an ancient thing. 

Awed, and more than a little overwhelmed, Rose became aware that she’d been holding her breath, and let it out in a big gust as her mind began to adjust to the sensation of having another mind sharing space within it.  

_ Hello, Doctor,  _ she thought. She wasn’t sure how any of this was supposed to work and felt a little silly, but she felt the Doctor’s delight and was reassured.

_ Hello, Rose,  _ he replied, and Rose couldn’t help her wince. It sounded like someone had put a vast echo chamber directly up to her ear.

_ Sorry,  _ the Doctor said, more quietly this time, and Rose could feel the deeper contrition behind the apology. He was trying so hard to make this easier on her, but had very little he could use as a reference. She almost shook her head but remembered she didn’t want to dislodge the Doctor’s fingers.

_ ‘S alright, Doctor,  _ she thought.  _ It’s just… wow.  _

_ I know, this is fascinating, Rose!  _ The Doctor enthused, modulating slightly, and Rose would have felt like a science experiment if she hadn’t been able to share the Doctor’s genuine awe and wonder.  _ The way a non-telepathic species responds to this level of connection, the way I look and feel to you… _

Of course, Rose realised now, he was in her mind, he’d be able to tell what she was thinking. She couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at how her baby human mind must look to him but the Doctor hastened to disabuse her of that notion.

_ No, Rose, not at all. Your mind is… blimey, it’s beautiful,  _ he said, his presence in her mind brightening as his voice quieted and she knew it as the absolute truth.  _ And I’m not reading your mind, not the way you humans think of it. I’m not looking at your memories at all, in fact. Think of this as a surface connection only… like I’m in the foyer of your mind, if you will. _

Rose nearly giggled.  _ My mind has a foyer? _

The Doctor shared her amusement and passed it back.  _ Not exactly. It would do, or something similar anyway, if you’d had any sort of training, or barriers in place. _

Rose found herself intensely curious.  _ So what’s it look like to you, then?  _ He’d all but declared her mind unstructured, but there was nothing offensive about that - it was true, she’d had no instruction whatsoever.

_ Oh, Rose.  _ Rather than words, she was treated to a series of images of nebulae forming. Rose wanted to demur, but here was no way to doubt his perfect sincerity. The Doctor paused as though to steady himself. 

_ Well, at least we know you’re definitely telepathic, Rose,  _ he said, and almost before Rose could consider needing elaboration on that point, he continued.  _ There’s no way you could be holding this conversation with me if you weren’t _ .

There was a slight pause, and a change in the swirling brightness as he considered how to explain.  _ The way I normally use telepathy is the most basic possible: a one-way, temporary connection, usually while I’m looking for something. Exchanging actual words is a step or two above that.  _ Behind the Doctor’s actual words, Rose thought there might be several more stages beyond that, but also his current reluctance to discuss them. 

_ So how’m I telepathic now? _ Rose wondered, and the Doctor’s presence shifted again. 

_ Well,  _ he said, and for some reason Rose found it amusing that he retained the same behavioural tics even as a bright light in her mind.  _ I have a theory. But I need to check something first.  _ The bright light faded slightly, and even before the Doctor could say anything more, Rose knew he was preparing to back out of the connection.

_ Wait!  _ Her protest surprised her almost as much as it did the Doctor.  _ Er… not just yet? This feels…  _ Amazing. Wonderful.  _ Cool,  _ she finally settled on, and felt the Doctor’s chuckle. 

_ All right, if you insist,  _ he thought, and there was a great deal of happiness in the words but also a slight discomfort.

_ Sorry, if it’s makin’ you uncomfortable…  _ Rose realised her untutored mind could be causing problems for the Doctor and felt bad for her selfish impulse. 

_ No, no, no. Rose, not at all.  _ The Doctor’s presence brightened further in her mind until it might have hurt to look at it, if she were actually looking at it.  _ Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m worried I may never be able to leave. _

_ Fine by me,  _ she said, and the constantly swirling thoughts in her mind froze for a split second before starting up again. Rose got the impression she’d said something extremely significant but couldn’t understand how, yet. 

_ Why don’t we try something else? _ The Doctor deliberately changed the subject and Rose let him. She already had enough to think about - literally.  _ This is still just a one-way street. I want to see if… maybe, you might be able to initiate a connection. _

His anticipation was infectious, and Rose found herself eager, rather than nervous.  _ You mean, go into your mind? _

_ Yup! _ The Doctor’s giddiness at the prospect had a deeper undercurrent of something else but Rose couldn’t get a read on it. He must have felt her willingness to try, because he said,  _ Try to follow me back. _

In the real world, Rose put her hands up to the Doctor’s temples, distracting her for a second, but she was soon ready to follow the silvery-blue otter anywhere it led, just as she followed the Doctor’s physical body.

The fizzy sensation began receding from her mind, and she found it easy enough to chase it, until she arrived at what seemed to her like a towering castle wall, complete with moat and drawbridge, which was already lowered for her as she approached.

_ Er… can I come in? _ She asked, daunted by the enormity of the construction. 

_ Always.  _ She felt a shiver of emotion from the Doctor, simultaneous with the feeling like a great portcullis being lifted to allow her entry. Rose could have laughed when she saw what was behind it. 

_ Really, Doctor? _ She thought, remembering halfway that he was able to hear her.  _ A portcullis in front of the TARDIS doors? Don’t you think that’s a little bit overkill? _

He was a ball of energy before her, exuding vibrant curiosity and desire for her approval.  _ Really? Is that what you see? Interesting.  _

_ Is that not what’s there?  _ Rose was confused. 

_ Not exactly,  _ the Doctor replied, and she could feel his eagerness for her to continue but also his love of explaining new things.  _ Your mind and mine experience things fundamentally differently, as you brilliantly surmised, but aside from that your lack of experience affects things too. For example, my barriers are actually pretty pathetic and out of shape, so the way you perceive them is interesting. I’m not surprised about the TARDIS doors, though.  _

Rather than explain, he simply indicated his permission for her to open them, and she did so, feeling another shiver from the Doctor. 

_ Oh Rose. The TARDIS doors will always open for you, key or no key.  _

Spurred on by his absolute acceptance, she followed him in and was immediately assaulted by sensory overload. Surrounded on all sides by babbling voices in every language, she felt as though she’d just been dropped in the middle of the busiest, most multicultural city imaginable. She barely had time to process anything before the noise abruptly ceased and she found herself standing in the TARDIS console room.

_ Sorry.  _ The Doctor’s voice was even more contrite than before. He stood next to the console, no longer the formless entity she’d perceived when he was in her mind, but he felt exactly the same.  _ Let you get too far. That was my fault. Are you all right?  _

_ Yeah,  _ she answered, already soothed by the familiar surroundings. It made sense now why the Doctor hadn’t been surprised by the TARDIS doors.  _ So this is your mind’s foyer? _

_ Yup!  _ He rocked back on his heels just like he would in the physical world and she couldn’t suppress a grin. The pressure that she’d felt before was stronger here, since she was in his mind this time instead of the other way around. She was also dimly aware of how he effortlessly accepted her entire presence, which made sense, given that there was considerably less of it, all told, and lucky, since she had no way of holding herself back like he did. 

He watched quietly as she familiarised herself with the differing sensations she was receiving, looking around the console room that was so familiar and yet not. While she was completely unsurprised to find the console to be an exact replica of the real one (at least, so far as she could tell), she’d never found the room in which it was housed to feel so… cavernous. It was a large room, certainly, but it always hummed with the sound of the time rotor and the TARDIS’ presence. Even without the Doctor, the few times she’d ventured there alone, she’d never felt as though the room was empty.

She did here. It was a pervasive, hollow ache that permeated everything she could feel. The echo-y vastness of the room accepted all she was like it was a drop in a bucket and she got the distinct feeling it was because this particular room was intended to house much more than just the essence of Rose Tyler, twenty year old human.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced (one of her own) from a basement in Utah. ‘I'd feel them, in here.’ Suddenly, the emptiness of the room made awful sense. She’d had no idea that what he’d meant was that he was supposed to sense them all the time. The time rotor here was still and silent because there were no Time Lord consciousnesses to monitor; the foyer was Time Lord sized, dwarfing her. _Oh, Doctor…_

He stared at her.  _ You can feel that? How can you… You shouldn’t be able to feel that! _

_ How can I not?  _ Rose asked, fighting back against the sensation that threatened to pull her under. She knew she could hardly make a difference but it made her feel better to try. The other impressions she’d gotten from him when he was in her mind were stronger here too: the juxtaposition of age-old wisdom with his vibrant curiosity, the otherworldly beauty, and she tried to focus on those. If she’d been awed, feeling his presence in her mind, it was as nothing compared to how she felt now, closer to the source. 

_ Rose…  _ He was looking at her with all the wonder she felt, but she couldn’t remember to feel embarrassed. All she could think about was how beautiful his mind was. Despite the sadness and the loneliness (or even, she admitted to herself, including them, since they were just as much a part of the Doctor as all the rest) it was the most wonderful place she’d ever been. 

Impulsively, unable to find a better outlet for these unaccustomed emotions, she grabbed the Doctor around the waist in a hug. He hugged her back instinctively and she grinned in triumph, having been unsure that it would work that way here. Rose had intended for it to be a chaste hug, but it heated up more quickly than she could have imagined; the Doctor stroking her lower back in a way designed to have her tilt her head up for a kiss, which he claimed eagerly. The pressure intensified as if the Doctor was having to try harder to hold himself back. 

It wasn’t that this was anything they hadn’t done before, but the swirling emotions were so much more intense than Rose was used to; she felt as though she might spontaneously combust. The Doctor groaned and broke their contact, and through her miasma of lust Rose could sense the superhuman effort it took for him to do so. 

_ Rose,  _ he said, his voice almost back to the volume it had been earlier, helping to cut through more of her desire,  _ I’m going to break our telepathic contact now.  _ She agreed, too dazed and confused to argue, and subsequently felt him gently easing their minds apart, like blowing a bubble in reverse. 

They were both breathing heavily as they slowly returned to awareness of reality, lying in bed, and the fog surrounding Rose’s mind resolved itself into a pounding headache not unlike the kind she’d have waking up after a night of drinking. She moaned and held her head, and instantly the Doctor was there, running his fingers through her hair to rest at the base of her skull, rubbing soothing circles. Rose sighed as she felt the pain recede slightly.

“Side effect of stretching muscles you’ve never used before,” the Doctor murmured apologetically. “I’ve got something I can give you for that.”

“‘M alright, Doctor,” Rose replied. “This is nice for now.” 

The Doctor hummed, and his fingers trembled on her skin. Rose had regained enough awareness by this point to remember that the Doctor had very nearly kicked her out of his mind and her insides squirmed a little, going cold.

“Did I-?” she asked, at the same time as the Doctor said, “Well, that-” Their eyes met in the darkness of their bedroom. The Doctor smiled; Rose did not.

“You first, Rose,” he said firmly, expression sobering, and Rose gratefully took the opportunity not to be distracted. 

“Did I do something wrong, Doctor?” she asked, her voice quiet. The Doctor’s hands stilled briefly before starting up again, and her stomach dropped, her worries confirmed. “Are we not supposed to touch in there, or something? I wasn’t even sure we’d be able to, I just needed…” She closed her eyes, unable to look at him, shame at her randy human hormones sweeping through her. 

“No, no, no, no, no, my Rose.” The Doctor pulled her close, stroking her cheek with his other hand. “No, I’m sorry, that was my fault and I didn’t prepare you the way I should have. There are things I need to explain to you about telepathy. Things that I never imagined I would need to explain to anyone. And I should have done so beforehand but I let things go too far, as usual.” 

He kept his voice even but Rose fancied she could sense his emotions, his frustration, the way she’d been able to when they were connected. Not being able to felt empty, and wrong, despite only just having discovered how it felt, and she ached anew for the Doctor, having to feel that way all the time.

“No,” the Doctor repeated. “Remember, I could feel everything you felt. Having you there was…” His hands stilled again as he searched for a word. Apparently unable to find one, he shook his head. “It was wonderful, Rose. English doesn’t have a word for how it felt. That’s why I had to pull back - it was nothing you did.”

“Okay.” Reassured, Rose twisted to look at him again. “So, can you explain, Doctor? I want to know…” She was interrupted by a large yawn, a reminder of the fact that it was still the middle of the night. The Doctor ruffled her hair fondly.

“I will, Rose. I promise. But I think that’s a discussion we can have tomorrow. Go back to sleep, love.”

Worn out from her mental exertion, Rose didn’t argue, though she wanted to. “Love you,” she murmured sleepily.

“I love you too,” the Doctor whispered. “Oh, my Rose. I love you so much.” 

But Rose was already asleep.

 ~oOo~

The Doctor lay on his back, gazing up at the ceiling. His whirring mind belied his calm exterior as he worked to fit all the pieces together. The telepathic encounter with Rose had been impossible. Unexpected. Utterly addictive. The golden light interrupting his nightmare had been one thing -  _ I want you safe, my Doctor _ \- but when Rose had touched her forehead to his and he’d felt a glimmer, like a crack of light peeking through a closed door, he’d known he was lost. 

He’d fallen completely for Rose Tyler while he’d thought she hated telepathy, much less believed that such connection would even be an option. He’d fallen, knowing all along that it meant he would be cut off from the larger part of the way his body was wired to accept intimacy. It was a choice he’d made willingly; so gladly it almost couldn’t be called a choice. There could only ever be Rose Tyler for him, and she already fit into his mad life more perfectly than anyone he’d ever met. To wish for more that he couldn’t have would have been beyond arrogance. But now…

Even his impressive mental capacity nearly hurt itself with all the directions it tried to go in at once. He would have to explain how telepathic bonds worked, first. Rose needed to know absolutely everything she was getting into before they attempted any further forays into each others’ minds. It would have been better to start any experiments after such explanation in any case, but he’d been greedy, and still coming down from the fear of his nightmare. He hadn’t even tried to wait. 

That assumed she even wanted more. The Doctor attempted to rein in his racing thoughts. She’d been so eager, so receptive… it was more than he had ever dreamed. But she was still so inexperienced when it came to telepathy. Just because she had responded positively to what they’d done tonight didn’t mean that she would want anything deeper, or more permanent. He would have to make it clear in his explanation that he in no way expected her to.

A cold twist of regret filled the space between his hearts. He’d wanted to do something to show Rose how much she meant to him, and before he’d even really been aware of it he’d been going over what he knew of human marriage customs. Due to his impulsiveness, that window had closed now. 

He briefly considered trying to sneak something in with Rose’s breakfast in the morning before immediately dismissing the notion. He wanted to do things properly. But the fact remained that Rose was going to want to hear his explanation in the morning. And he knew that once he explained, he wouldn’t be able to hide his desire to share a bond with her. 

The Doctor frowned. He now saw that the better course of action would have been to propose to Rose first. He wanted, no, he  _ needed  _ Rose to understand that he wanted her with him, in whatever way she felt most comfortable. Before the discovery of her telepathy, he would have considered himself the luckiest being in the universe to be able to marry Rose Tyler and call her his wife. He burned with frustration that he hadn’t thought of it in time - marriage certainly didn’t come naturally to him but he’d been around humans long enough to know it would be what Rose would expect.

Rose sighed and turned in her sleep, snuggling closer against him, and his train of thought scattered immediately, like chaff on the wind. His hearts burned so intensely it was almost uncomfortable, thinking about how much he loved her, and how close he’d come to losing her, and he realised none of the rest of it mattered. This was Rose, his precious girl, who had defied time and space itself to stay with him. 

He pulled her closer still against his body, closing his eyes as he savoured the simple fact that he was able to do so. She’d given them this; a future. It was up to him to make sure it was a fantastic one.


	3. Chapter 3

Breakfast the next morning was more tense than usual. For one thing, Rose was far more alert than she’d ever been in the morning, watching him with bright, inquisitive eyes, and the Doctor knew that she hadn’t forgotten their truncated conversation of the previous night and was simply waiting for him to bring it up again. The Doctor, for his part, was trying to stay on top of his nerves as he prepared himself to undertake what would potentially be the most important conversation of their relationship.

As they were sitting across from each other nursing their second cup of tea, Rose finally took the initiative. The Doctor was surprised it had taken her so long.

“All right, Doctor,” she said, not unkindly, leaning back slightly in her chair. “How’d you like to do this?”

He swallowed the sense of irrational panic that threatened to choke him, gathering up enough air to speak. “Well…” His voice emerged several octaves higher and he cleared his throat again, as Rose watched with a fond expression on her face. “For starters, I’d really like to go to the med bay and run some tests.” He saw her expression fall as he said the hated ‘m’ word and hastened to explain.

“ _Please_ , Rose. We already know you’ve changed. I need to know how, and how much.” He hoped she knew he wasn’t trying to dodge the discussion and quickly added, “we can talk while we’re there, Rose, I promise. But it would honestly help me give my explanation if I knew… well, what to explain.”

Rose was already halfway to her feet. “I guess I should just be surprised it’s taken you two days to ask - I’m actually sort of impressed, Doctor.”

He scratched the back of his neck ruefully, conceding the point. His restraint had been deliberate, and difficult. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” _I want you safe._

Rose stepped around the table to cup his cheek in her hand. “I know. My Doctor.” He leaned into her caress and she placed a soft kiss on his lips before taking his hand.

“Come on, then,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.” He squeezed her hand in relief and followed her to the med bay.

At first, his attention was devoted to setting up the equipment. He had Rose lie on her back as he ran several passes over her with the sonic, setting it to a different frequency each time. Rose sat up as he inserted the sonic into the machine and set the scans to run, and they both reached for their teacups that they’d brought from the galley. She looked at him expectantly, eyebrow arched, and he realised he was no closer to a beginning than he had been the previous night.

“So… telepathy,” she prompted. The Doctor nodded vigorously, opened his mouth once or twice to say something, only nothing came out. She shook her head indulgently, taking pity on him.

“Let’s start with what the rules are, Doctor. I know you said I didn’t do anything wrong but you still had to pull back. You said you’d explain why.”

Buoyed by the underlying assumption that she intended to repeat the previous night’s activities, the Doctor took a fortifying sip of his tea. That was his Rose. Always cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Rules. He could work with rules.

“Well, the rules are different for each telepathic species, of course,” he began, and Rose gave him a look that told him she knew what he was doing and he quickly put himself on track. “But for my people - Gallifreyans - it all boils down to a few central tenets. Consent, obviously, is paramount, which you already know. Respecting privacy, locked doors, all that.”

He paused. Most of the regulations actually involved bonded pairs rather than general telepathic contact, and he still hadn’t thought of a way to bring that up.

“So touching while in each other’s minds is…” Rose prompted again, a touch impatiently (as well she might), and the Doctor took a deep breath.

“It’s fine in theory,” he said at last. “Of course, Gallifreyans in general and Time Lords in particular weren’t much given to contact in any form, physical or otherwise: exchange of emotions was thought to be quite sufficient. However, given the heightened emotions inherent in any telepathic exchange, it’s easy for matters to… escalate. Especially between two people who love each other.” He used the word deliberately and his reward was the smile that broke across Rose’s face like the dawn.

“You mean, like telepathic sex?” she asked, not looking daunted in the slightest by the prospect, and the Doctor was forced to confront a whole other set of difficulties for this conversation that he hadn’t considered. He swallowed thickly, tasting the tea in the back of his throat.

“Yup!” His voice was squeaky again and he worked to force it back to its usual tenor. As he’d expected, he was having a hard time disguising how much he wanted this. Rose looked speculative, and it was all he could do not to throw himself at her and beg her to let him show her what it could be like. He had Plans. Would have plans. Anyway.

“So you pulled back last night because you didn’t want to…” She bit her lip in an uncertain expression, and the Doctor nearly sent his cup of tea hurtling to the floor in his haste to take her hands, twining them in her lap.

“I meant what I said last night, Rose. It was incredible. I wanted…” His voice cut out under the weight of just how much he wanted, and from the sudden widening of her eyes, it seemed Rose understood. The presence of her hands in his kept him from clenching his fists. “But I couldn’t. Not until you understood everything that would entail.”

She nodded slowly. “Consent, yeah.” He felt an odd sense of relief that she was taking this so seriously, although he hadn’t really expected otherwise. It was time.

“I told you already, that my people preferred to experience emotional rather than physical contact - speaking of ordinary Gallifreyans, of course, very little emotional exchange going on amongst us Time Lords - well, it was the same for intimacy. Given our long life spans the urge to procreate was not a priority, so over time we evolved to require only the mental aspect.”

A spark of realisation lit in Rose’s eyes and he knew she’d already put together what that meant for him without him even needing to put it into words. His love for her soared even as he hastened to reassure her.

“Now, obviously that’s not the case for me. Even if I weren’t now affected by a certain biological imperative-” one that had wasted no time in kicking him upside the head when he was presented with the vision that was Rose in her Cardiff gown, catching him completely off guard - “I’ve always felt very differently about you, love.”

Rose smiled shyly at him from beneath her luscious lashes, proving his point, and the Doctor had to force himself to continue with the discussion.

“So you want to… with me.” Rose said. It wasn’t quite a question, but the Doctor responded anyway.

“Oh, yes.” As if that could ever have been in doubt. Rose frowned slightly.

“So why couldn’t you, Doctor? Why hold back this time? You didn’t when…”

Passionate memories of their previous trysts flooded the Doctor’s body with warmth and he groaned low in his throat. From the way Rose shifted ever so slightly, recollections were affecting her, too.

“First,” he forced out, unwilling to be distracted again, “I wasn’t sure how much strain your mental capacity could handle, which is another reason I wanted to run these tests.” Rose blinked. He could tell she’d forgotten about the exam - he almost had, himself. “And second, that sort of contact is only possible within a bond.” The last few words came out in a rush. Rose blinked again.

“A bond,” she repeated. The Doctor held his breath. The room had gone fuzzy around the edges, everything except Rose blurry and indistinct. “So just to be clear here, we’re talking about more than just a mind meld, yeah? Don’t tell me this is like a ‘no sex before marriage’ thing… is it?” Her voice raised slightly as she found no denial in his expression. He quirked a smile.

“I know. Terribly old-fashioned, isn’t it?” He felt a ramble coming on and was helpless to stop it. “Which was why it was starting to become unpopular, even among ordinary Gallifreyans. Permanently sharing your mind with another, letting yourself be that vulnerable, all for some metaphysical canoodling, it just wasn’t seen to be worth it. Not to mention all the pomp and circumstance that began to grow up around it. Honestly, I remember one ceremony-”

“Doctor.” Rose stopped him, and he was glad to be stopped, his gob taking him places his mind didn’t particularly want to go back to. She looked into his eyes for a moment, making sure she had his full attention before continuing. “Is that even something we could do? Is my telepathy strong enough for that?”

There were so many answers the Doctor could give to that question; he settled for a simple, “Yes.”

Rose accepted his answer, considered it. He waited with bated breath. Finally she said, “You said it would be permanent, yeah? So what happens, when I…?”

She didn’t have to say it - they both knew what she was referring to. The Doctor suppressed a shudder.

“Well, by all accounts, it would be extremely painful if the bond were to be broken for any reason. You’re making the other person’s mind a part of your own, so you’d be left with a missing piece.” He couldn’t keep the bleakness from his voice as he forcibly relived the few seconds when he’d thought Rose was going to fall. Being without her - bond or no bond - would have been unbearable. “But unless I very much miss my guess…”

At that moment, the scanner dinged, and the Doctor and Rose both froze.

As though in a trance, the Doctor slowly reached for his specs, carefully unfolding them and putting them on without looking away from Rose. Rose squeezed his hands.

“Okay, Rose Tyler,” he exclaimed, rolling his chair back and turning towards the monitor in the same movement. “Let’s see what my magnificent time and space ship has to tell us.”

He scanned the list, Rose coming to stand behind him even though she couldn’t read the script. She was about to prompt for an explanation when the Doctor clapped a hand to his forehead.

“Oh, stupid Doctor!” Rose jumped, startled.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice slightly sharp. His attitude wasn’t the most reassuring.

“Oh, I’m sorry Rose, it’s nothing bad. I just compared the readings I just took with the ones I got when I took care of you after Canary Wharf.” Rose vaguely remembered him being perturbed by something the last time they’d been in here but she’d been more concerned with wanting to get into bed, feeling his arms around her, and putting the whole bloody day behind her.

“Here, look.” He changed the readout to English and put the two scans side by side for her perusal. Even in English there were a lot of words Rose didn’t know, but she forged ahead anyway, not wanting to be left behind. “I was getting abnormal levels of something in your body but I couldn’t tell what it was. I thought it might be residual Void stuff and I was intending to check it later.”

“But if it’s not Void stuff, what is it then?”

“It’s artron, Rose.” The Doctor had his chin in his hand, still studying the charts, but his heels were bouncing excitedly under the table.

“You mean, more than normal, right?” Rose asked. Having just explained the concept to Mickey she knew there was something more to it that had the Doctor excited.

“Way, way more,” the Doctor said. “In addition to quite a large amount of huon energy. And given that huon particles destabilise the atomic structure I'd normally be very, very concerned by that, but what it says here is exactly the opposite.”

Rose read the line the Doctor was pointing to. “My cells aren’t aging?” she summarised.

“ _You_ aren’t aging, Rose,” the Doctor confirmed gently, and for the first time since they’d woken up she couldn’t get a read on his emotions. “Well, you are, just very slowly. In fact, you’re aging just as slowly as I am.”

Rose stared with widened eyes at the Doctor, at the screen, and then back again. It was good news, because it meant she wouldn’t have to leave the Doctor on his own. It was just a lot to take in. The fact of her mortality had been a sticking point in their relationship for so long; even once the Doctor had finally conquered his fears and given into his feelings she’d been surprised. Ecstatic, but surprised. She couldn’t possibly imagine how it might feel to outlive everyone you loved - now, it seemed, she would find out, but with the Doctor at her side. She could face anything so long as that was true.

Imagining that the Doctor’s less than enthusiastic reaction was based on similar thoughts, she attempted to steer the conversation in a safer direction. “So wanna explain what the rest of it says?” she asked. She could read it herself but was hoping to distract him, and it worked.

“ _Enhanced frontal lobe_ \- that’s how you can manage telepathy now, Rose. _Enhanced strength_ -”

“Strength?” Rose repeated, in surprise.

“Yup!” The Doctor popped the ‘p’, then sobered, turning his chair slightly to face her. “Rose, you shouldn’t have been able to hang onto that lever as long as you did.”

Without thinking about it, Rose took advantage of his changed position to climb into his lap, the reminder making her want to be as close to him as possible. The Doctor’s arms closed instantly around her waist, holding her tightly for a moment and stroking her back, reassuring them both.

Once they’d had a chance to compose themselves, he continued, lulling her with the sensation of his voice resonating in his chest. “The sprains I healed… they were consistent with a much stronger force than the human body is built to withstand.” He clutched her closer at the reminder of how close he’d come to losing her.

Rose ran her fingers through the short hair at the back of his neck, searching for a way to divert the topic once again. “So - hang on,” she said, genuinely curious. “These are changes from when I was Bad Wolf, right?” The Doctor nodded, pulling back to look at her. “So how comes I never noticed any of this before now? Super strength? Telepathy?”

The Doctor luxuriated under her continued caresses, looking pensive. “That’s a good question. I believe your telepathy went unnoticed because it was undirected. It’s not like you see in the movies, open to every passing thought. Well, it is for some species I suppose, but Gallifreyans were touch telepaths, which means our telepathy is already somewhat focussed in nature.” He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth and Rose wanted to sweep it into her mouth. She refocussed with difficulty.

“From what I can tell, Bad Wolf changed you to be capable of telepathy so that you were able to direct the TARDIS when you merged, but you don’t have any innate telepathy of your own. It likely protected you from the psychograft as well. Last night, you were able to follow me back to my mind but I was still sustaining the contact largely on my own. If I had to guess, that is,” he added, offhand, but Rose didn’t doubt he was right. It was a good enough answer for now.

“So what about the super strength? That’s something I’m sure I would’ve noticed.”

" _Enhanced_ strength, Rose, and if you’re interested we can test the limits of it later. I doubt you can, say, lift a car or anything like that. But are you so sure you haven’t felt the effects of it already?”

Rose frowned, trying to think. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve never really put it together before now, but that sword you tossed me, when I was fighting the Sycorax?” Rose nodded, remembering. Though she hadn’t thought about the incident for some time she considered it one of her finest hours. “Well, that sword was made of halkonite steel: one of the densest metals in the galaxy. And you tossed it, one-handed, what… fifteen, twenty feet?”

Rose blinked. She’d been quite proud of her movie star moment, but had chalked it up to adrenaline when the sword hadn’t felt heavy at all in her hand.

“And what about that time on Rysa when we had to escape from those cultists?” The Doctor was starting to sound excited, the way he always was when piecing together a mystery.

Rose’s palms grew sweaty at the memory. They’d been herded to take a mountain path that had unceremoniously turned into a sheer cliff face about halfway down. Everything had been going fine until Rose’s foot had slipped on a patch of grass and she’d suddenly found herself clinging to the rock face with one hand. She’d managed to switch her grip to a safer part of the cliff in order to descend successfully. In the moment, all she’d cared about was survival, not on precisely how she was able to keep her grip, and afterwards she’d written it off as luck.

“And that’s another thing, Rose, now that I think about it. You know I’ve got a superior physiology; that’s just a fact. But you’ve been keeping up with me much more easily these days. Normally I hold back a little when I’m with someone else but I haven’t been, the past little while. I’ve forgotten to because I haven’t needed to.” His eyes widened. “Oh.”

“What is it, Doctor?” Rose asked again, feeling a little bit like she had whiplash. The Doctor didn’t seem too concerned but so much had changed today that she felt slightly off-kilter. To her further confusion, a pink blush appeared high on the Doctor’s cheekbones and he shifted under her uneasily, stopping just short of adjusting his collar. His reluctance was obvious, but to his credit he didn’t try to evade her question.

“Well, I’ve just realised what with this talk of your endurance-” here, he seemed to recover some of his aplomb and favoured her with a cheeky wink, leaving her in no doubt about what he meant - “that these changes mean we are far more compatible than I believed at first.”

“Oh!” Rose repeated, unable to help the brief panic that flashed through her. She knew it was unnecessary since the Doctor wasn’t bothered but she couldn’t help it. She’d had a pregnancy scare with Jimmy and it was a feeling you never really forgot.

“Rose?” The Doctor slid his hands up her arms to grasp her shoulders. “It’s all right. You’re not pregnant. If you were, it would show.”

She believed him; he would be far more concerned if there were even the slightest chance. She pushed the irrational fear, which was more memories than anything, aside and nodded at the Doctor.

“It’s okay, Doctor. Just a surprise is all.”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said, his expression more concerned now that the discussion was focussed on her. “I told you it was safe, I should’ve been more certain, I could’ve…”

Rose shook her head. “You weren’t to know,” she said, thinking all the while how lucky they’d been. It only took once, and they’d been at least partially compatible the whole time. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d taken birth control. She chuckled a little.

“What is it?” The Doctor’s eyes were still searching her expression - he thought she’d be angry with him.

She pressed her lips together briefly, but still answered him, if only because he looked so worried.

“I guess we’re not all that compatible then?” She couldn’t pin down one thing she was feeling and the Doctor was understandably confused.

“What do you mean?” His eyes widened slightly. “Rose… you don’t want children?” It was almost not a question. Rose huffed a breath and shrugged, fighting the urge to pull away from the Doctor, wondering how on Earth she’d ended up in this conversation.

“I dunno, never really thought about it.” She tried to keep the defensive edge out of her tone. “I didn’t, with Jimmy or Mickey, even if I hadn’t been too young, which I was.” The Doctor was still watching her intently, and she smiled up at him through her lashes. “And then I fell pretty hard for this fascinating bloke who swept me off my feet to travel through time and space.” The Doctor started smiling too, and Rose was relieved when his expression changed. “And since he happened to be an alien, it was never really a consideration for me.”

When the Doctor still didn’t respond, she blinked, looking at him properly. Beneath the veneer of concern there was longing there, deep and dark and keen. The kind of emotion she had no proper name for, couldn’t even begin to grasp with her paltry twenty years of existence.

“Oh,” she whispered again. “But you… Doctor, you really want kids.” This time there could be no doubt, but he still shook his head immediately.

“Not if you don’t want them,” he said seriously. He ran a gentle hand through her hair.

“Tell you what,” he said, before she had a chance to respond. “We’re not deciding this today. I’ve got a contraceptive I can take in the meantime. If and when you decide you want to revisit this conversation, we can reevaluate. All right?” He carded his hands through the hair behind her ears again, smiling tenderly. “You take as much time as you need.”

The breath Rose let out was slightly shaky with relief, and she nodded. “I guess we’ve got lots of time, don’t we?”

The intensity still hadn’t left the Doctor’s eyes - he looked at her like she was the only woman in the universe. “We do.”

The words were an invocation, a vow. She smiled despite the trembling in her chest. “Good.”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Good? Rose, you’re going to live a very long time. Maybe even as long as I will. That sort of life… it becomes a burden, after a while.”

Rose should have felt angry, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She cupped his face in her hands. “Yes, it’s good. Because it means you won’t be alone, Doctor. I want you safe.” His eyes flashed, and his hands twined more securely in her hair. “And that doesn’t just mean not in danger. It means your hearts, too.” She lowered her hands until they were each resting on top of one.

The Doctor’s eyes never left hers. “Rose Tyler.”

It reminded her of all the times before he’d said her name as a full sentence, containing more meanings than either of them had words for. It was why she’d never felt like she needed a more overt declaration of his feelings for her: it was all there in those three syllables instead.

They shared a lingering kiss, and when they parted the Doctor was looking at her less like Bad Wolf and more like herself. She knew he was struggling to believe that he deserved what she’d done to herself for him, and yet with her family now living in the parallel world, she didn’t feel that it was entirely for his benefit.

“Better with two,” she reminded him, and his mouth quirked. “Besides, I’ll still have Jack. He’ll outlive everyone now, thanks to me.” Guilt threatened to overwhelm her, and she pushed it aside with difficulty.

“It’s not your fault,” the Doctor said quietly, but Rose just inclined her head. Maybe someday she’d be able to believe him. Then his lips turned down again, and her heart sank further when she realised she hadn’t distracted him from the previous topic like she’d hoped. “It’s not what I would have wanted for you,” he said, even more softly, and Rose clenched her hands in his shirt as if to grasp the hearts she hoped to protect.

“Maybe not,” she conceded. “But it’s what I wanted for you.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened, and he swooped down to capture her lips again a moment later. Rose allowed herself to get lost in the sensations of kissing the Doctor; kids, super strength, extended life and all of it out the window. If it meant she got to do this, she could handle anything.

Before matters could get too heated, however, the Doctor pulled back. His pupils were blown and his hearts, still under her hands, were pounding, and she realised her declaration had affected him in more ways than one. She blinked up at him as he licked his lips unconsciously, trying to regulate her own breathing. The Doctor cleared his throat.

“So I’ll just, ehm, dose myself with this…” He gestured vaguely to a glass cabinet that dominated one of the walls that looked like it contained a vial of every substance ever created - and she wouldn’t put it past him if it did.

“And then can we go somewhere else?” Rose begged. “Somewhere with comfy chairs, maybe? I want to talk more about telepathy.” Their discussion of bonding had raised far more questions than it had answered before they’d gotten so thoroughly sidetracked. The Doctor’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded slowly.

“Of course, of course.” He found the vial he was looking for and prepared a hypospray. “Now all I have to do is take this every six months and we’re safe as houses,” he informed her as he worked. “One hundred percent prevention rate.” Rose blinked as he gave himself a perfunctory jab in the arm and released the solution.

“There,” he said, grinning at her. “All sorted.” He paused. “Why do you look so surprised?”

Rose raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just… I know in the future medicine’s advanced and all but, I dunno, it feels like I should be doing something more about this.”

“Oh yes, twenty-first century attitudes towards contraception.” The Doctor nodded knowingly as he disposed of the hypospray. “You lot grow out of it, eventually,” he drawled, his back to her as he rearranged the scanners, then he turned back towards her, flipping his sonic screwdriver before replacing it in his pocket. “Besides, makes more sense to deal with matters at the source, as it were.” He held out his hand to her, waggling his fingers. “Shall we?”

Rose took his hand and followed him out into the corridor. “Where are we going? Library?”

The Doctor shook his head. “It’s called the Zero Room.”

Rose arched an eyebrow. “Sounds sinister.”

“It’s not!” The Doctor protested. “It’s just… very, very quiet. Cosmically and, more important - at least for our purposes - telepathically so.” He slid open a door to an airy, white room floored with a plush carpet. Rose’s feet sank into the weave as she felt a wave of peace wash over her, like a headache had been eased that she’d lived with so long she’d forgotten she had it. She let out a long breath, and the Doctor mirrored her at the same moment.

“What is this place?” Rose felt the need to whisper, for some reason.

“This, Rose, is the everything-proof room.” The Doctor’s voice was quiet and still, but that was more due to the lack of reverberation. “It is the most telepathically neutral space left in the universe and is therefore the best place for you to develop your basic telepathy.”

Rose inhaled deeply. “Why does it smell like roses?”

The Doctor pulled her close, burying his nose in her hair. “It always has, since I stole the TARDIS and ran away,” he replied. “Her subtle way of hinting me, I suppose. She exists outside of space and time, so in a way you’ve always been a part of her.”

Rose pulled away, grinning up at the ceiling. She almost thought she could hear a hum, like someone listening to a symphony in another room.

“Is that her? Is that the TARDIS?” She looked back at the Doctor, wide-eyed, and found that he was grinning at her.

“That’s her. She’s expending quite a bit of effort to reach you, but she wanted you to know she was here.”

“Hello, Dear,” Rose said. The sound caressed her, then it was gone, but the presence lingered.

“Can you talk to her all the time?” she asked, as the Doctor led them to sit in the centre of the room.

“Yup, except when she’s sulky and won’t talk back,” he teased, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. Rose mirrored his posture. “If we bond, you should be able to too, through my connection.” His face shuttered briefly as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

“ _When_ we bond, Doctor,” Rose corrected him gently, and his eyes snapped open. “I want to learn more about telepathy and bonding and everything, but none of it will change my mind. If our life spans aren’t going to interfere I want to share forever with you, in every way possible.”

The Doctor cupped her face in his hands, his long fingers behind her ears and away from her temples. “Love… I believe you. And I can’t tell you just how much that means to me. I may not even be able to fully show you. But you’re still so new to telepathy. And there are things in my head that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, let alone my third heart.”

Rose nuzzled into his touch, feeling a familiar rush of affection for her daft Time Lord. “Doctor, your ship has a room that smells like roses because she knew she would merge with a human so that you wouldn’t have to be alone.” She met the Doctor’s eyes. “I absorbed the Time Vortex so I wouldn’t have to leave you. I’m not about to do it now.”

The Doctor’s expression softened. “Quite right.” He pressed a brief, chaste kiss to her lips. “Still, I’m not going to let you agree to anything until you understand more about what telepathy entails. Once we’ve bonded, there’s no going back.”

Rose nodded, secretly adoring this honourable streak of his even though she’d never tell him so. “I understand, Doctor,” she said, before breaking into a grin. “Just as soon as you admit you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you, Rose Tyler?” he asked, tracing the shape of her lips with his finger. “Could be worse.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and he relented easily, snaking his hand down to her shoulders to pull her closer. “Couldn’t be better,” he admitted, before connecting their lips again and engaging her tongue in a far more pleasant activity.

Much later, after seeking and being given murmured consent, the Doctor slipped easily into Rose’s mind. Now that she knew some of what to expect, the sensation was less overwhelming, but still very pleasant. The Doctor’s pearlescent otter swirled in slow patterns in her mind’s eye, back and forth.

 _Hello,_ she said again, at a loss as to what else to say.

 _Hello,_ he responded, no less eager than the first time but his tone was tempered by something else. The pressure seemed more intense this time, as though her submarine had moved to deeper waters, but it could just have been because she was expecting it. _Rose, we’ll get to the lesson in a minute, but first there’s something I want to tell you._

Rose didn’t say anything, but she knew the Doctor could pick up on her willingness to listen - she could sense how important whatever he was going to say was to him.

 _That’s right, Rose,_ the Doctor told her. If she concentrated, she could almost see the otter wearing specs. _When our minds are connected like this, we can feel the truth of what the other is thinking. If we were bonded, that’s how we would be, all the time. The same way you know how someone close to you is really feeling, even if they’ve told you otherwise._

Rose considered the Doctor’s words. _So… you’d always be able to tell what I was thinking?_ Of course, she’d been able to suss out the Doctor’s true feelings for a while now, and vice versa. But she had no point of reference for the degree of intimacy the Doctor was describing.

 _In a general sense._ The Doctor’s presence was giving off little sparks in his anxiety. _It wouldn’t be literal mind reading - not without expending a reasonable amount of effort. But you wouldn’t be able to lie, or conceal how you were feeling._

Rose was so surprised she barely even thought about how that would affect her. _And… you’d want that. With me._ For as long as she’d known him the Doctor had rarely been forthcoming with his feelings.

_Yes._

Rose knew what he meant about not being able to lie; there was no question of believing him. But she thought she would have known his sincerity, even if they hadn’t been connected. She remembered how it had felt when she was in his mind, that yawning, gnawing emptiness.

 _Rose…_ The Doctor paused, and she got confused impressions as he considered. _Can we go into my mind for a bit?_

Rose couldn’t see why not, so she agreed, and without further ado she found herself standing in the console room of the Doctor’s creation once again.

Rather than hold himself apart this time, the Doctor came to her and took her hands. More than the usual warmth sparked from the contact, spreading across her skin. Rose felt as though she’d sunk her body into a warm bath.

 _I wanted to tell you now, before things went any further. Yes, it is empty in my head, emptier than it was ever supposed to be, but that is_ _not_ _why I want a bond with you. That’s not why you should agree. I want to be with you, in whatever way you want._ The Doctor’s eyes, boring into hers, were as dark as she’d ever seen them, fathomless, and yet warmer than the current she could feel running over her skin. _That’s all I want. All I’ve ever wanted._

Rose couldn’t possibly doubt his sincerity - it loaded his every word and gesture like an anchor. If she’d held any lingering concerns as to his motivations, they were easily dispelled. If anything, she couldn’t help but think about the road that had led them here, where his unfinished sentence outside a cafe had become twilit kisses in Churchill’s England which had reached their inevitable conclusion beneath an impossible black hole. He’d made the choice to move beyond his very reasonable fears before they’d learned any of this, when he still thought he would lose her at the end of her human life. She’d meant enough to him that he’d moved forward anyway, and her heart swelled to aching with love.

 _Oh, love…_ The Doctor pressed a kiss to her forehead that nonetheless felt like the first spark setting tinder ablaze. Rose wondered if she would ever get used to how much more intense feelings were while they were connected.

 _Indeed… Rose, I believe it would be prudent to move back into your mind now,_ the Doctor said, his voice sounding strained and his eyes as wild as she’d ever seen them. She could feel the pressure all around her now, squeezing her, but it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable; quite the opposite. It felt like a dam before it burst: she wanted to break the restraint and revel in the flood.

 _Now, Rose,_ the Doctor reminded her, and reluctantly she led the retreat back into her mind. She couldn’t help but feel slightly cold, but it was also somewhat of a relief.

 _Doctor, how comes we have bodies in your mind but not in mine?_ She asked a question she’d been considering for a while, watching the silvery beam of light illuminate everything it touched.

 _We will do, once your telepathy is a little bit more developed,_ the Doctor answered. He seemed relieved to be in her mind again too, coiling in tight spirals for no overt purpose except because he could. _That will come with time. For now, I want to work on the most important thing, which is building up your telepathic barriers. This will keep you safe inside your mind. Aside from preventing less scrupulous telepathic beings from rummaging about inside your head, it will also shield you from incoming signals which could be harmful or overwhelming._

Rose nodded - that sounded very good to her.

_I thought it might. Now, I want you to imagine the safest place you know._

Rose couldn’t help it - her first thought was of being wrapped in the Doctor’s arms.

 _Rose, please._ But the Doctor couldn’t hide the flood of emotion that belied his words.

Rose was unrepentant, but she relented, and the Doctor helped her begin to build her own foyer out of her room in the TARDIS.

 _All right, this will do for now,_ the Doctor said as he surveyed their handiwork, and Rose felt dual surges of pride, both his and hers. _Now you need to focus on making these walls-_

 _Impenetrable?_ Rose asked.

 _Not exactly,_ the Doctor answered, and Rose remembered the first time he’d told her about telepathic contact and thinking that there were layers beyond what he’d explained.

 _That’s right, Rose. Now obviously you want the outer barrier to be as strong as possible because you may not be prepared to assess a telepathic encounter before it begins and you can’t be caught off guard. But, remember how you saw my barriers like a castle?_ Rose saw the portcullis in her mind’s eye and could feel the Doctor’s pleasure that she was following.

_It’s a good image to keep in mind. Obviously you want to keep everyone out at first. Then there are people you might want to just allow into your foyer and no farther. For people who are closer to you - friends, family - you might want to let them a little bit further than that. And beyond that…_

_Bonding,_ Rose guessed, and the Doctor’s presence trembled as he agreed.

_Yes. No walls, no barriers. Everything is shared. You become a part of them, and they are a part of you. Always._

It was impossible for him to disguise just how badly he wanted that connection, and his feelings were strong enough that Rose got swept up in them without being able to parse her own reaction. She did want a bond with the Doctor - nothing she’d learned so far had made her want to change her mind. But it was just so new and different from anything that she was used to, she couldn’t decide exactly how she felt about it.

 _That’s perfectly fine, Rose,_ the Doctor told her gently. _You’ve been so incredible about this already. All the changes, not to mention you’ve clearly got a gift for telepathy. But I want you to learn much more about everything that telepathy entails before you can make an informed decision._

Rose had to admit it seemed like a sensible plan, at which the Doctor preened because of course it was.

 _Will you teach me how to let you in, no matter what, the way you did with me?_ Rose asked, and felt the Doctor’s love surround her like a candle flame, as well as his simple astonishment that this had been her first concern.

 _Rose… Of course. If that’s what you want._ His presence brightened slightly in her mind. _But first let’s work on getting you some walls so I have something to bypass._

Rose regarded him fondly. _You think you’re so impressive._

His happiness fizzed through her. _I am so impressive! And before we’re finished, Rose Tyler, I’m going to prove it to you._

 

The Doctor was as good as his word. His proclamation heralded a loosely regimented time during which Rose and the Doctor would spend some time in the Zero Room (she could never tell how much - being connected telepathically was like being in a dream, where things she thought had taken forever were instantaneous and vice versa). Afterwards, the TARDIS would send them a restorative tea until Rose felt up to leaving. Then they would read in the library, or watch their favourite movies; something quiet and undemanding, which would allow them to curl up as close as possible.

Rose enjoyed the lessons, and the feeling of closeness with the Doctor it gave her, and she found herself in bed with him at night wondering what it might be like to have that connection all the time. She was making good progress, and was grateful for his care and attention. Mostly the exercises made her feel comfortably sore, like the way she felt after a long workout mixed with the satisfied relief of finally finishing a tough exam. She didn’t often require the pills the Doctor had for telepathic pain. Only once, when she took the Doctor’s instructions a little too far and ended up trying to block out the TARDIS - impossible anyway, since her connection was what gave her telepathy in the first place - and a second time, when she was experimenting with keeping the Doctor out, to practice rejecting telepathic overtures.

It didn’t hurt at first, not like when she’d accidentally blocked the TARDIS, but as the day wore on bringing failure after failure, even the Doctor, who was usually endlessly patient during their sessions, was beginning to feel the pressure.

 _But I don’t_ _want_ _to keep you out!_ Rose finally snapped, unintentionally breaking their connection and giving herself a headache in the process.

“Rose, I’m sorry,” the Doctor said softly. “May I?” He indicated her head.

Rose deliberated for a moment, but she wasn’t so daft to turn down his help in a fit of pique, especially since it wasn’t really him she was angry at. She nodded as slowly as she could to avoid aggravating her headache, and immediately the Doctor’s skillful fingers were working at the base of her skull, alleviating the pressure like he had the first time.

“I’ll do better next time,” Rose murmured, soothed by his ministrations.

“No, Rose, you’re doing so incredibly well,” the Doctor said. “The fault is mine, I didn’t think… Of course you don’t want to keep me out, you told me so before we even began, and I’ve been forcing you to fight your own mind, which is never a good idea. We’ll just have to find you someone else to practice on.”

“Who else do we know that’s telepathic?” Rose asked, curious.

“I know a few people,” the Doctor said lightly. Rose was aware that they were skirting around the issue of how there were no Gallifreyans left to ask. “People I trust enough to allow them near your mind. Not at first, of course, I’d take you to meet them, make sure you felt comfortable. And I’d be right at hand, just in case.”

Rose had gotten better at picking up on subtle nuances in the Doctor’s voice since spending so much time connected to him, and the subtle edge of danger in his last words made her shiver. She thought of the overwhelming pressure of his full presence that he was constantly holding back from her, and knew that if anyone tried to harm her, they would be obliterated instantly.

 

They retreated to bed early that night, but didn’t sleep until much later. Lying in the afterglow of their lovemaking, in the circle of the Doctor’s arms, Rose knew she was the safest she’d ever been. The Doctor might scoff, but when she was close to him, being surrounded by him, either physically or mentally, she knew nothing could harm her.

Through her lessons, all she’d been able to think about was how amazing it would be to be able to feel the Doctor’s presence no matter where they were. She knew the Doctor thought that it might be too much for her, that his mind was too old, too heavy, too dark, for her to want to be a part of it. But Rose could see the beauty in his mind, tempered by grief, and regret, and anger, yes, but no less poignant for all that, suffusing every strand. He was her Doctor, and she wanted to be a part of him, if he’d let her.

The only question that remained for her, though she was careful never to think of it when they were joined, was how long it would take until the Doctor’s honour was satisfied enough to accept her answer when she told him she wanted the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there will be a short epilogue after this, just to tie up all the loose ends and to address how Rose and the Doctor will be going forward. Thanks so much for reading! I'm sorry I lied about how much there will be but this ended up taking a lot longer than I expected!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for the extended wait on this chapter, but my muse finally decided to behave and give me seven thousand words of pure fluff. I hope you enjoy!

“Rose, we’re gonna be late!” The Doctor called back into the TARDIS. He straightened his cuffs. He wasn’t about to tempt fate by wearing a tux tonight but the old girl had supplied him with a sharp new blue suit, which he’d paired with a deep red Oxford and a black tie rather than his habitual blue on blue, as the TARDIS had hinted he should. He suspected it was in order to match whatever Rose was wearing, but a hint was all he’d gotten, though he had to admit it made his suit a bit dressier than usual.

“Time machine!” Rose sang back from within the bowels of the TARDIS. The Doctor shook his head indulgently. She and the TARDIS had been conspiring like schoolgirls for the past several hours, and their impish humour zinged pleasantly along his bond with the ship. It made him think about how it might feel to be receiving Rose’s emotions directly rather than secondhand. She’d taken to telepathy like a fish to water, but she hadn’t mentioned anything further about bonding.

The Doctor frowned as he peered back into the TARDIS, waiting for Rose to emerge. The ball tonight would have been the perfect setting for a proposal, he suddenly realised, but his plans were no further advanced and he was disappointed in himself. Admittedly he hadn’t exactly had much of a chance to purchase a ring - that was what tonight was about, after all. A rest, and a change of scenery. Taking the time to do something fun.

A few times, he’d attempted to slip out while Rose was asleep, but she would inevitably stir and he didn’t want to arouse her suspicions. He straightened his tie. Now that they were back to travelling, he would make finding a ring his top priority. Rose deserved better from him.

~oOo~

Rose did a little experimental twirl in front of the mirror, equal parts anticipation and anxiety tightening in her belly. It wasn’t that she seriously doubted what the Doctor’s reaction would be, but it had been ages since she’d dressed up, and she couldn’t quite shake the little voice that told her she shouldn’t bother.

It wasn’t as large a part as it had once been. If there was anything the telepathy lessons had impressed upon her, it was exactly how intense and enduring the Doctor’s feelings for her were. Between that and all she’d seen and done in her travels, her self-esteem had gotten a major boost. Still, it was hard to completely vanquish the little voice in the back of her head (that sounded a bit like her mother) saying that she was a shop girl from the Estates and that was all she would ever be.

After their time spent floating in the Vortex, learning how to control her telepathy, Rose and the Doctor had looked at each other over breakfast one morning and knew that they were both ready to run again. The Doctor had told her that she had a good grasp of the fundamentals and now it was just a matter of practice. They’d set the randomiser, and landed on the planet Rheneia. The Doctor had bounded out of the TARDIS - already expounding the virtues of a rainbow sea and storms made of flower petals - right into the middle of a coup.

They’d quickly ascertained the nature of the conflict and though they both had opinions as to which side they supported, they remained carefully neutral as always, lending aid wherever they could and trying to keep casualties down. Luckily the Rheneians were by and large a sensible people and didn’t villify them for this, both sides instead lauding them for their efforts.

The Doctor told her later that Rheneia was a peaceful planet but every few generations or so the same conflict would rear its head again, with most of society wanting nothing to do with it except for a few hotheads. The restored monarchy had gratefully invited them to a ball that night to celebrate, and the two of them had agreed it would be just the sort of break they had actually wanted, doubly welcome after the stress of being in a war zone for the past few days.

She eyed her reflection critically. The TARDIS had provided her with a scarlet gown to wear to the ball, and it was Rose’s opinion that the ship had really outdone herself this time. The dress had a high halter neckline, and clung to her upper body as though painted there, hugging all her curves to drape in elegant folds around her legs. The asymmetrical hem, shorter in the front, would still allow her to run, if she had to, though she was quite uncharacteristically wearing heels - the TARDIS had directed her to them, and she trusted the ship to know whether or not running would be required - if push came to shove she could always slip them off.

By far the most striking feature of the dress, however, was that it was completely backless. Rose twisted to look over her shoulder at the line where the silken fabric skimmed her waist and thought the only shame would be that it meant she wouldn’t be able to see the expression on the Doctor’s face the instant he got the full effect.

No necklace was needed with this dress, so the only finishing touches were diamond dangle earrings to replace the hoops she always wore, then she patted the vanity fondly. She’d been helped by the TARDIS every step of the way, deeply aware of their stronger connection through all the lessons she’d completed; it was almost like having a girl’s night. The ship chirped encouragement at her, and she nodded in satisfaction at the woman in the mirror. She looked like she belonged at a fancy ball, on the arm of someone like the Doctor. She couldn’t wait to show him.

Grabbing a wrap from beside the door that would hide the best part of the dress until the opportune moment, Rose set her shoulders and walked out of the wardrobe room, eager to see her Doctor.

He was, predictably, still grumbling as she came into earshot. “Time machine nothing, Rose, we’ve landed so we’re already part of events. We’re the guests of honour at this ball, not sneaking in this time, so we can’t just…”

“I suppose Time Lords wouldn’t have a concept of being ‘fashionably late,’ would they?” Rose asked, lightly halting his tirade, and the Doctor turned, wearing an expression like he was about to argue, before catching sight of her and his face went slack, like he'd just been poleaxed by a cricket bat.

Rose caught her breath, too, at the striking figure the Doctor cut, but nervousness still fluttered in her chest the longer he went without a reaction. Still, it was something, to see the Doctor rendered speechless like this, and that was compliment enough for Rose. Seeing a way to gracefully diffuse the situation, she arched a teasing brow.

“What was that you were saying about being late…?” She went to move past the Doctor but his arms shot out, catching her by the shoulders. She turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden movement, and found herself transfixed by the intensity in his eyes that was every bit as powerful as that fleeting moment when her first Doctor had looked at her dressed for Cardiff. That Doctor had looked down, deflected; this one didn’t look like he was capable of taking his eyes off her.

“Rose…” Her cheeks heated under his gaze, he looked at her like a birthing star, a fresh galaxy. “You look…” he seemed to struggle for words. “Absolutely stunning,” he said at last, and Rose could no longer resist the temptation of his open mouth to suck on his bottom lip, which quickly turned into a heated snog as the Doctor pressed her gently against the door of the TARDIS.

 _Sure stunned you,_ Rose thought cheekily, and felt his wholehearted agreement. It was getting easier, though still difficult, to exchange thoughts when they were touching like this, their minds having become more and more attuned to each other through hours of practice. Easing regretfully out of the kiss with a final peck, she ran her fingers carefully through the hair behind his ears, since she hadn’t been able to grab it during the kiss for fear of mussing it.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, and then continued before he could respond. “Now, we really will be late.”

They took a quick moment to compose themselves and then the Doctor offered his arm. “Might I have the honour of escorting you to the ball, Dame Rose?”

Rose slipped her arm through his, twining them until they were holding hands. It was an unconventional hold, but it suited them. “It would be my pleasure, Sir Doctor,” she teased, touching her tongue to her teeth as she grinned at the memory of Scotland and how far they’d come since.

Twilight was deepening as they made their way across the manicured lawn, whimsically shaped topiaries looming out of the shadows at them. The white gravel path crunching beneath their feet was rendered lilac in the gloam, and the scent of honeysuckle was heavy in the air.

Rose squeezed the Doctor’s arm, saying nothing, just drinking in the moment. The Doctor squeezed back, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

When they arrived at the vestibule, Rose made sure to go ahead of the Doctor. A smartly dressed attendant took her wrap. Behind her, Rose heard the Doctor’s breath hitch. She glanced over her shoulder to catch him swallowing visibly, the heat in his eyes like a banked fire, setting her alight.

An instant later, he was beside her, one hand coming to rest automatically in the small of her back like he couldn’t help himself (which, Rose thought with a touch of smugness, he probably couldn’t).

“Rose Tyler,” he murmured in her ear as they joined the queue to enter the ballroom, words nearly a growl, and Rose suppressed a pleasurable shiver. “I hope that your intent when you put this on was to render me incapable of keeping my hands off you for the entire evening.”

Rose grinned inwardly and thanked the TARDIS for providing an outfit that would start to make up for all the previous such events they’d attended when she’d wanted nothing more than to hear the Doctor say those words to her.

“Might’ve been,” she said, smiling innocently up at him, watching his expression shift into something predatory that she licked her lips to see.

“Good,” was all he said, eyes wide and dark, and then they’d arrived in the ballroom.

Rose caught her breath, surveying the scene. Everything sparkled, tastefully accented with filigree and hundreds of candles ensconced just so to achieve the maximum effect. Guests mingled in colourful profusion across the gleaming parquet floor, framed by long trestle tables adorned with ribbons and groaning under a heaping weight of delicacies. Massive gilt mirrors made the large space appear even larger, and the far wall consisted entirely of floor to ceiling windows. No ballroom would be complete without a massive chandelier and this one was an ornate vision in shimmering gold and silver, seeming to refract all the light in the room even as it produced more, so bright it nearly hurt to look at for long.

Rose felt like they’d stepped into a fairy tale. She’d attended many such events with the Doctor and wasn’t easily impressed, but it wasn’t every day she got to set foot somewhere that looked like it was taken directly from her fantasies.

She looked up at the Doctor and found him looking back at her, savouring her reaction. Only then did it register that he hadn’t made an immediate beeline for the buffet. His restraint was obviously for her benefit, and it made her feel warm inside, at the tangible evidence that he was making a conscious effort to do as he’d promised and making this evening about _them_.

“Rose,” he said in a low tone, as he guided her over to the dais to greet the queens whose regime they’d helped save, hand still firmly placed on her lower back, “it was never about the nibbles.”

Rose wondered if he’d read her mind - given the nature of the latent telepathic awareness that was constantly buzzing between them these days, it wasn’t uncommon for either or both of them to have flashes - but the Doctor shook his head.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to attending one of these with you now that I don’t feel I have to play pretend any more,” he said, and the light in his dark eyes held such promise. Rose nearly melted against him right then and there, but she cast her mind back and realised that they hadn’t gone to any fancy parties since consummating their relationship. She grinned up at the Doctor, but he smirked back at her.

“The most beautiful woman in the universe on my arm, and I’m finally able to take advantage,” he said, so quietly Rose felt the words more than she heard them. She was robbed of the chance to respond as they arrived at the dais and greeted their majesties. Rose let the Doctor do the talking, as usual, still preoccupied with his words and the way they gave her goosepimples.

A brief squeeze of her hand was all the warning she got before she noticed both of the queens’ attention was now focussed on her. Snapping back to the conversation, her mood shifted abruptly from thrilling happiness to stark horror as she realised her name had been mentioned. They were waiting for her to say something.

 _They asked if you might be willing to say a few words,_ the Doctor gently prompted her, and not for the first time, Rose blessed telepathy for allowing them to have nearly instantaneous conversations. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously - why hadn’t she thought of this before? Rheneian society was heavily matriarchal (the reason for the conflict in the first place) and would rate her words far more highly than the Doctor’s.

It was the classic nightmare come to life, called upon to do public speaking with no preparation, but it was worse because this was so naturally the Doctor’s territory. Rose was fine with that - she was aware her talents lay elsewhere. She felt a rush of calm that wasn’t hers and knew the Doctor had to be sharing his emotions. She took a deep breath.

“I’d be honoured, your majesties.” Her voice shook a little, but she hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. She turned to address the room, marvelling that the space she once thought so large suddenly seemed crowded with people. The Doctor kept his firm grip on her hand, and she set her shoulders. She’d spoken for planet Earth against a hostile alien race with the Doctor in a coma. She could do this.

“The Doctor and I would like to thank you all for your generous hospitality,” she said first, trying to think of suitable words. “We’re honoured by your welcome.” Keep it simple, Tyler. “But we only helped where we could. The real heroes are all of you. The Rheneian people. You worked together to restore peace to your home and proved yourselves to be brave, resourceful, and merciful. We hope you will never need our kind of help again.”

The experience of a matriarchal society was certainly refreshing, but she refused to let it blind her to how it wasn’t actually any better. She wanted to say something about how maybe greater equality would prevent such conflict but knew it wasn’t her place to interfere, limiting herself to a subtle reference to how this sort of thing kept happening.

There were assorted murmurs of approval that quickly broke into swelling applause, and Rose’s cheeks burned, embarrassed. She hadn’t said anything all that special, and was certain they were just humouring her, so it was a surprise when she felt a tidal wave of pride, and looked at the Doctor to find him staring at her with such open admiration that it made her slightly uncomfortable. She looked away quickly, unable to bear his gaze, but squeezed his hand in gratitude.

“Well said!” Her Left Royal Majesty swept down from her throne, deep indigo gown a-flutter. “Well said, indeed, Powell Rose!” She looked out upon the ballroom with her multi faceted, orb-like eyes. “With such a meet beginning, I declare the festivities officially open!” Looking back at Rose and the Doctor (or Rose assumed that’s what she was doing, she could never actually tell what the eyes were looking at) she inclined her head.

“Doctor, Powell Rose, will you further honour us by leading the dance?”

Rose glanced involuntarily at the Doctor. She didn’t actually expect him to refuse, but there was always a chance. The corner of his mouth turned up, and that was all the encouragement she needed to nod at the queen.

“Your Majesty, it would be our pleasure.”

The queen clapped her hands twice, and the musicians in the corner started playing the native version of a waltz, lent a somewhat darker undertone by the Rheneian instruments, which sounded to Rose’s ears like a cross between a zither and a cello. Rose, knowing what was expected of her, led the way to the floor, the Doctor trailing in her wake.

“You can let me lead, if you want,” the Doctor whispered to her. “Rheneian dance is intended to flatter the woman.”

Rose was happy to let the Doctor take charge for a little while after her unexpected speech, so she nodded gratefully. He shifted his grip on her, placing one gentle, long-fingered hand on her waist in a gesture that would have been chaste, were it not for the expanse of skin Rose was currently displaying. She shivered slightly - his touch was cool and the night was warm.

“Ready, Rose Tyler?” the Doctor asked. He looked at her like she was the only other being in creation, and her heart stuttered the way it always did.

“Show me your moves, Doctor,” she teased, and he smirked as they began to dance.

Of course, Rose was quite familiar with his moves by now, both in and out of bed, and she smiled softly at the memory of multiple dance lessons with the Doctor - dancing at social functions was a common enough occurrence in their lives after all. Rose had enjoyed the lessons, taking to it quickly thanks to her gymnastics training, but they had still been fraught with peril as they were both at pains to disguise how the close proximity to the other was affecting them. And now here they were.

“What are you thinking about?” the Doctor inquired, close enough to her ear to make her hair stand on end. He spun her out and away, and when she was back in the circle of his arms she rested her head on his shoulder briefly before replying.

“Of how much I love you.” She felt a burst of satisfaction when she heard his breath catch at her words and he pulled her involuntarily closer.

Rose heard murmurs rising in their wake as they passed; they must have cut quite a striking figure together. But her attention was all for the Doctor, as he led them around the floor as effortlessly as breathing and Rose honestly never thought she would have this even as she savoured the moment. Between the Doctor’s heartsbeat and the drum accompaniment time felt suspended, weightless, and they were floating.

“I can’t tell you how liberating it is not to have to pretend any more,” the Doctor confessed, and Rose squeezed his hand, stifling a giggle.

“Can I tell you a secret, Doctor?” She took advantage of their temporary closeness to lean up and whisper in his ear. “You were never very good at pretending.” The Doctor smiled ruefully, conceding her point.

“Well, I appreciate you letting me get away with it,” he drawled, before spinning her again.

The dance drew to a close, and after a brief applause, couples eagerly swarmed the floor. The Doctor and Rose bowed out to rest for a bit, and retreated to the dais, where they were seated near Their Majesties, both of whom clapped politely as they approached.

“Magnificent,” Her Right Royal Majesty proclaimed.

“Truly, we are graced by your presence among us,” Her Left Royal Majesty chimed in.

“But tell me, Powell Rose.” Her Right Royal Majesty leaned in conspiratorially. “What on Rheneia does a gorgeous woman such as yourself see in a _man_?” She sounded vaguely horrified. “Certainly his shape is pleasant enough, for a male, but wouldn’t a woman serve you better?”

Rose was deeply uncomfortable speaking about the Doctor as if he wasn’t present, but knew she had to play along to avoid giving offence. There was no way for her to verbalise everything the Doctor meant to her, and even if there were, she wouldn’t present it to this audience, who couldn’t understand it anyway.

“Erm. He’s got really great hair. And a nice… throat,” she said at last, seeking features that would distinguish him from a female. Beside her, the Doctor turned his squawk of outrage into a cough. “I like his ship, too,” she hurried on, as the queens nodded knowingly.

The Doctor just smiled politely, as though this knowledge wasn’t new to him and he appreciated the compliments. But Rose caught a flicker of his deeper unease through their joined hands and it was that glimpse that made her decide to go through with her ulterior purpose for the evening right then and there, instead of waiting for some undefined point by which she would have gathered her courage.

“I’d happily go into much greater detail later on,” she said, squeezing the Doctor’s hand in preparation to rise, “but would your majesties pray excuse us for a moment?” The Doctor looked at her in surprise but thankfully remained silent.

“Very well, Powell Rose,” Her Left Royal Majesty proclaimed with a lazy wave of her hand, “but see that you don’t take too long, you shall miss the _hanabari_.”

“We wouldn’t dream of missing the fireworks,” Rose assured them, having pulled the Doctor to his feet as soon as they’d been granted permission. “Excuse us.” She swept a curtsey, the Doctor bowing at her side after a hardly noticeable hesitation, and led the way off the dais, reaching for the Doctor’s hand again as soon as they were safely ensconced in the crowd.

 _What’s all this about, Rose?_ The Doctor asked, his voice in her head revealing the bewilderment he wouldn’t allow to show on his face. Rose held off answering until they’d slipped through one of the sets of glass doors into the garden.

She maneouvered them to an isolated spot beyond the hedges where they’d have a good view of the sky - because one way or another, she doubted they were heading back to the party tonight.

“Rose?” the Doctor prompted again, out loud this time, and Rose tried to sort through the order in which she wanted to answer the Doctor’s question.

She looked around - it was a beautiful spot. The bench was nestled in a tall hedge, surrounded on three sides. A trellis stretched across the opening, twined through with vines and native flowers. A bright moon shone down on them from a sky brushed with feathery clouds, lending a subtle silver glint to every outline and casting its dusky lavender veil over all. A fountain splashed somewhere out of sight.

The Doctor’s concern was growing the longer the silence stretched, so Rose turned back to him, taking both his hands.

“Doctor, you know I love you for more than just… your hair, or the TARDIS?”

His brows knitted together in a frown.

“Of course I do Rose, why would you think otherwise?”

“Because I don’t think you truly understand,” Rose admitted quietly. “Because even though we’ve spent so much time in each other’s heads, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe me when I tell you how much I love you. How beautiful you are. How I’m always going to stay with you.” The Doctor opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rose squeezed his hands and he shut it again. His eyes as he watched her were wide and doleful, his face as open and vulnerable as she’d ever seen it.

“An’ I get it, Doctor. I understand why when I say those things, it makes you pull back. I’ve seen it, in your head. I know. If we hadn’t discovered what we did about Bad Wolf, I might even have agreed with you. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt.” She freed one hand to cup his cheek, keeping her other hand firmly linked with his. An unnameable emotion mounted in his eyes as he kept them fixed on her face, and Rose couldn’t have looked away even if she wanted to.

“But that also means I won’t let you stay hurting when you don’t have to be. Doctor, you’re so alone, in your head.” The Doctor made a low sound and she stroked the hair behind his ear to quiet him.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore. I know you said you didn’t want me to be with you just because of what I saw in your head, and I’m not. You are the man who saved my life. Who showed me the stars. Who proved to me that I was worth so much more than I’d been taught to believe. When I became Bad Wolf to save you, I didn’t come back because trouble was just the bits in between, or because there was a plasma storm brewing in the Horsehead Nebula, or to a Doctor who danced.”

She raised her other hand to cradle his head between them, not yet venturing near his temples. Already, the temptation was there to slip into his mind, to let her feelings do the talking for her. But it was important to her that she say this without the aid of telepathy.

“I came back to a ravaged space station filled with the dead, to a Doctor who had been about to destroy all life on Earth. I have seen your darkness, Doctor. It doesn’t scare me. Not as much as the thought of you having to bear it alone.”

The Doctor sat frozen between her hands, hardly breathing. Rose hadn’t intended to talk for quite so long but a combination of nerves, the romantic setting, and how long she’d been waiting to say these words had removed her usual inhibitions. It was time.

“I made my choice a long time ago, that I was never going to leave you. Now that we know I won’t have to, I’m not gonna hold back any more. Doctor…” Rose ran the words through her head one last time. She didn’t know if this was the proper way to ask and it was too late now. She just hoped she wouldn’t screw it up. She took a deep breath, and spoke the words that the TARDIS had been helping her with.

The Doctor’s eyes shot wide. Rose bit the inside of her cheek, praying that she’d pronounced everything correctly, that the Doctor wouldn’t be upset.

“Rose…” His voice was oddly breathless, carrying no weight in the air. He had to swallow several times before he could speak, Rose waiting with bated breath for his response, her heart hammering in her chest. “Say that again. Just one more time.”

For one heartstopping moment, Rose was afraid that she’d said it wrong, that he hadn’t understood her. But then she saw the way he was looking at her, like a man who’d resigned himself to never eating again suddenly being presented with a feast, and she understood. She smiled, no longer apprehensive, and repeated the words exactly. A ritual phrase spoken in the Doctor’s native tongue. _Will you bond with me?_

The Doctor’s eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a shuddering breath. Rose waited. There were tears in his eyes when he opened them again but a fierce joy shone from his face. Before Rose could do anything, he’d pulled her into his arms and was kissing her desperately, pulling away just as she’d managed to think about reciprocating.

“Yes.”

Rose blinked, registering slowly that she’d asked a question, that the Doctor had answered. Tears started in her own eyes and the Doctor nodded in response to her expression, a single tear tracing down one cheek.

“Yes, Rose Tyler,” he said, the words low and hoarse. “I would be honoured to bond with you.”

He raised his fingers to her temples, waiting for her to do the same, and Rose felt a thrill that this was really happening, that they were doing this, right here and now. Both sets of hands were trembling as they made the connection and slipped easily into each other’s minds.

The Doctor was upon her immediately, a bright blazon through her mind, as he held her closer than he ever had before. _Is this okay, Rose?_ he asked.

 _More than,_ Rose assured him, basking in the unbridled light of his presence.

 _Rose, you fantastic… You brilliant woman. How did you…?_ There was no small amount of awe in the Doctor’s tone and Rose shifted a bit uncomfortably.

 _It was the TARDIS,_ she explained. _I asked her to help me. I don’t think she’d mess about with something like this. I just hope I got it right?_

The Doctor had projected them into a replica of the place where they were sitting; he picked her up and spun her around, his mental signature almost giddy. _Exactly right, Rose Tyler,_ he said, setting her down and sobering slightly, though the excitement was replaced by a profound joy that stopped just barely short of swallowing her. _Ask me one more time. Please._

Rose could sense the true meaning behind the request; not only had the Doctor never thought he would hear his language again on the lips of another living soul, he had never once entertained the idea that such a question would ever be directed at him. She obliged, repeating the words with the weight of her new understanding and receiving in return a deeper comprehension of the words she spoke: tenses inexpressible in human terms, a cultural context that didn’t exist in English, lost in the mists of time.

Then, the Doctor answered, and though the words were in Gallifreyan, she could parse the unfamiliar words through their connection (and even if that weren’t the case, his acceptance in the most unreserved degree was thunderous across all telepathic frequencies): _I welcome you as my bondmate._

 _Bondmate._ Rose tested the word, both in English and the Gallifreyan the Doctor had used, and felt the shiver go through the Doctor’s mind. She looked up at him, unwilling to be distracted.

_So, Doctor. How do we do this?_

_First, we need to completely take down our telepathic barriers. Good thing we’re on a psi-null planet like Rheneia,_ the Doctor said. Rose knew there was nothing lucky about it - the TARDIS had known what she was doing. _I know we’ve both already keyed each other in as safe but the bond is the ultimate bypass - because, essentially, our minds will become one._

Rose felt pleasure zip through her as she considered always being connected with the Doctor, but it was as nothing to the rapture emanating from the Doctor’s side. Once they’d both opened their minds, the Doctor hesitated for the briefest moment, and Rose knew, even without telepathy, that his desire to give her one last chance to back out was warring with how much he needed the bond - and how much he believed in what she’d told him. Filled with affection for the daft man she was about to bond with, Rose gave him the gentlest of telepathic nudges and repeated the sentence he’d used earlier. _I welcome you as my bondmate._

With their barriers lowered, she could feel the wave of urgency as it overtook the Doctor at her words: his need to be with her forever, his wonder that he should be receiving what he wanted most in the universe.

 _Oh yes, Rose,_ the Doctor said, even his telepathic voice faint under the weight of his emotions. _Normally both parties would offer affirmations, but you’ve already done yours, and I…_ The press of emotion nearly choked out his words. Rose waited as he steadied himself.

 _Rose Tyler,_ he said again, _you are the true light in my life. I held myself back for so long because I was afraid of losing that light… all I could see when I looked at you is how little time we had left. Now, to learn that we really do have forever…_ He shook his head. _I can only imagine a future with you._

This time it was Rose’s turn to be overwhelmed, but with a soft kiss, the Doctor reminded her that they still had something to finish. Buoyed by his love, her eagerness made it easy to focus.

 _Just follow my lead, Rose_ , the Doctor instructed, like this was just another lesson, only far, far more significant. He gradually began to wrap himself around her telepathic centre, strand by strand, and Rose made shift to do the same. Their connection made it easy to move in tandem, and soon they were coiled around each other in an intricate pattern.

Rose understood: they were making themselves a part of the other’s mental core, like grafting a tree. Her awareness of the Doctor had deepened with every strand, but she didn’t really feel any different, and she knew they weren’t finished yet.

 _Exactly, Rose._ The Doctor’s voice was somehow clearer than before, as though she’d spent her whole life listening to mono and had suddenly discovered stereo. _Now I want you to press into the core itself. There might be a bit of resistance, but don’t worry - you’ll know when to stop._

Rose did as she was told, sinking down into the ball of incandescent light. It was so beautiful that she almost didn’t notice the tiny shift, like the snick of a key in a lock, before suddenly she was completely enveloped in the bubble of the Doctor’s consciousness. At the same time, she could feel her own mind expand to contain the Doctor. All the centuries of life, the joy and the pain, all the voices she’d heard when she’d ventured too far that first time - all of that was now a part of her. And it didn’t feel overwhelming, as she’d expected; she merely felt full, the way she would after a decent meal when she hadn’t eaten for a while. It felt _right_.

 _That’s exactly how it should feel, my Rose. And I’m a part of you._ The awe and gratitude in his voice couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Rose waited, adjusting, watching as their joint telepathic shields were raised, twice as strong as either would have been separately, even added together. She felt completely safe, and strong, as she drifted in the warmth of the Doctor’s love, floating gradually back down to earth.

In the real world, they lowered their hands from each other’s temples, but like an afterimage, Rose could still feel herself ensconced within the golden centre of the Doctor’s mind.  

She looked at the Doctor as her mental landscape continued to shift and change, feeling just as awed. Encompassing the consciousness of a Time Lord was not something you did every day, and she was absolutely blown away by how his love for her permeated every fibre that made up the whole.

For a moment, Rose had a vision of a series of faces overlaying the Doctor’s, stretching back into the past; by turns boyish and venerable, eccentric and stern, foppish and regal. Yet no matter how different they appeared in each face, the eyes proved that they belonged, absolutely, to the same man. Each were likewise contained within the Doctor’s current face, even that of an impish youngster, whose sharp eyes twinkled out at her from behind the Doctor’s. There was a second set of faces, even more nebulous, that Rose couldn’t make out in any detail except for the eyes, that she thought might be future regenerations. She sucked in a breath, and knew that every face belonged to her.

 _My Doctor,_ she thought, the words drawn from her before she realised she’d spoken, her love deepening with each face she saw until she could hardly recognise the feeling as what she’d called love before.

 _Yes, Rose,_ the Doctor replied, pulling her as close to him mentally as she did physically. _Yours._

Their lips pressed together without any conscious intention; it was a natural effect of how close their bodies and souls were entwined. The kiss started out reverently, as they grew accustomed to the interplay of emotions, but with the added telepathic element, it heated quickly.

The first time the Doctor had kissed her, they’d been out in public at a 1950s street party; the real kiss had been when they’d gotten back to the TARDIS and snogged against the console. Even without any telepathy at all, the kiss had been unlike anything Rose had ever experienced, the Doctor’s scent, his taste, his cool lips, combining in some indescribable way, and Rose had been sure she’d never feel anything like it again.

Now, as the Doctor’s lips worshipped hers, Rose thought she’d have to revisit her earlier assessment. She felt like a glass full of light, pouring into the Doctor; emptied, she could accept his intensity in return. She could feel it all: the turn of the planet, the exact speed of the ground moving beneath their feet, the motion of the stars and the ceaseless, ever-changing melody of Time itself.

There were fireworks streaking gloriously across the sky, but the bursts of vibrant stars were as nothing compared to the explosions of emotion between them.

 _I love you, Rose Tyler,_ the Doctor breathed fervently, his bliss and adoration an incandescent presence in their new bond. _My bondmate, my beloved, my hearts. Forever._ Rose could feel the weight of the words through time as the Doctor finally laid claim to them.

She gathered herself to respond but the Doctor stopped her with a thought. _My Rose, I know you want to say it back. But before you do, I want to hear you say it this way. Just once. You already know my true name, the one I chose. It’s the only one that matters, except this time. I want to tell you my name - my real name._

Rose couldn’t help the way her heart quivered at the thought of being entrusted with the Doctor’s biggest secret. She nodded, once. _Please_.

The Doctor steeled himself, and then he spoke a string of syllables. They imprinted themselves on her mind as he whispered them in her ear, and she could feel the ripple they made through time, the power in them resounding in her chest like one of the fireworks, even as she wept unabashedly at their beauty.

The Doctor kissed away her tears, and Rose smiled up at him. Speaking the words was effortless - it was like part of her had been waiting her whole life to repeat his name back to him, this once, and never again. “I love you.”

He trembled, and then pulled her closer against him, placing hungry kisses across every inch of skin he could reach. When he captured her lips in a searing kiss, Rose let the words ring out telepathically instead. _I love you, my Doctor_.

The bond pulsed insistently in her head, and it was perfectly natural for her to reach for it, sending her pleasure back to him. The Doctor groaned as he let her surface for air, his eyes dark with desire.

 _Did the bonding ceremony happen to include... a wedding night?_ Rose asked, again choosing the ease of telepathic communication over trying to get her breath back.

If possible, his eyes darkened even further. _It does now._

He reached for her hand. Rose was already slinging off her heels. The Doctor beamed down at her, and she discovered facets in his smile she’d never seen before.

“Run!” he said, and they did, dashing ecstatically across the manicured palace grounds, their giggles drowned out by the fireworks. They approached the TARDIS just as dawn was breaking over the shorter Rheneian night, and the ship hummed impatiently as they approached, missing her new couple.

Rose whooped as the Doctor swept her into a bridal carry and both the TARDIS doors burst open. Once they were inside, he pressed her against them, sending provocative images over the bond even as he lightly caressed her face.

“No fair,” Rose moaned, barely able to think past the haze of passion, both hers and the Doctor’s, and the Doctor chuckled.

“Indeed not,” the Doctor replied, his lips now skimming the line of her throat to her shoulders. “You know, as fetching as this dress is on you, my love, I think it would look far nicer on -” he laved the hollow of her collarbone with his tongue and she shivered, arching into him - “that strut, over there.” He indicated with a jerk of his head before resuming his attentions on the other side.

“Same for that suit,” Rose sighed, already tugging at his tie. They wasted no more time in confirming their suspicions.

And so it was, that hardly a week after they’d almost lost each other, the Doctor and Rose began the first day of their forever the way they meant to go on - with not an inch of space left between them.


End file.
